Faster Stronger Better
by BlazingStarInInkyBlackness
Summary: The first time Stiles didn't eat it lasted 5 hours and 43 minutes exactly. But as you age you get better and better. And who cares if he's fainting? Who cares that there's more scar tissue than skin left? Who cares if he tries to kill himself? The answer is everyone. Not a happy fic, trigger warnings inside. This fic works with the assumption season four doesn't exist.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, this started because I was having a bad night and needed something to vent my frustrations on. Aaaaand the victim in question is Stiles Stilinski! It was meant to be a depression, suicide, eating disorder fic but I think now it'll turn more into a recovery fic. I do not have an eating disorder and I don't know anyone very well who does. Most of the other stuff is personal experience mixed with a lot of reading material online. If you know someone going through this try to be there for them and if you are going through this talk to someone. You can try me but I'm not good at helping people. However if you want an anonymous ear then I am here! (It rhymes!)

Also this fic is completely ignoring all events happening in season four and any similarities is just down to the fact that I am obviously physic J. Or I just guessed right… Probably that tbh.

Also, long note, I don't know how triggering this is going to be. It will probably mention a lot of self-harm, suicide attempts, eating disorder thinking and depression. Basically this is a really upsetting fic and I do not want anyone with issues being triggered by it. But anyway, have fun (okay maybe not) reading this fic.

* * *

It started as a challenge- how long can you go without eating? It ended in a hospital bed. There was stuff in between, good stuff bad stuff and stuff that was nothing really.

Stiles was bored one day while his mother was in hospital. No one would tell him why but he'd figured most of it out. She was gonna die. He didn't really know what that meant either. He'd finished the school work he had been set and, as he had yet to discover the internet, he was bored. His father was busy working a double shift and the babysitter hadn't turned up yet. In school he had been learning about healthy living, the food pyramid and what happened of you didn't get enough. And so a thought crossed his mind. How long can I survive without food? When he had voiced it to the teacher she'd glared at him and said that every meal was important.

That day he had tried it, when his babysitter finally arrived he said he'd already eaten and when his dad came back, exhausted, Stiles had said he'd eaten tea with the sitter. All in all it lasted about five hours and then he went to get himself a sandwich which evolved into three and a number of cookies. And there the question was answered; he could survive five hours 43 minutes without eating. He settled down in bed that night comfortable with the new knowledge he'd gained. He was awoken the next day by his dad whispering that there had been a car crash. Stiles was dropped off at the hospital with a book under the care of Nurse McCall with a fervent promise from his father that this would be the last time. As it turned out Stiles' father was right.

That night when they were both home Stiles ran straight upstairs. His father didn't try to follow. Instead he sat at the table with the wine he had for his wedding anniversary. By the morning it was gone. Stiles rushed into his parent's bedroom and buried his face in the clothes. He knew it was pointless. Her smell had gone, now it was only left in the hospital room. In under an hour that would go too, it would all be washed away by disinfectant and be replaced with someone else's smell. Stiles felt sick and terrible. It was almost as if something was stuck at the back of his throat, as if it had swelled up. He ran to the toilet just like he was meant to when he was ill. That thought brought back more memories, his mom bending over him and whispering that he was alright, that it would be gone by tomorrow. Even if it wasn't she was still there the next day and that made up for the illness. Stiles bent over the toilet and felt it come up. When it was done he felt different, lighter in some way. And somehow Stiles could suddenly sense her in the room.

"Mom?" he croaked out but just as he opened his mouth the presence vanished. He crawled into his bed fully clothed and cried for what seemed like hours. In reality it was only one. Within a week his father and he had moved to the opposite side of Beacon hills. It made sense; it was closer to the school and to the police station. No one mentioned how it was further from the hospital or how it was closer to the graveyard. A week after his mother's death Stiles was back in school and now going solely by Stiles. His real name was never uttered, it had been his mother's name for him and he thought it was right that something died along with her.

Growing up Stiles knew that he was different, he was gangly and things fascinated him too much. He was hyperactive and couldn't pay attention. Teachers wrote this off as acting up after his mother's death. Eventually he was diagnosed at ADHD which was just another mark that he was different. The one thing that made it better was Scott McCall. They fitted together weirdly. Stiles had a fairly faulty moral compass but Scott's compass worked enough for both of them. Stiles couldn't think in a straight line and Scott couldn't run in a straight line. (Or run at all if his asthma was acting up). Scott had the cute, puppy demeanour and Stiles had the brains to back it up. Scott was a dreamer and Stiles was the realist who would get it done. Scott didn't have a father and Stile's didn't have a mother. They fitted like scars around an open wound.

One day when they were lying on the ground, trying to determine if Scott was dying or just having an asthma attack, Stiles brought up a question.

"How long is this going to last?"

"Normally they're a few minutes if its longer I need to get my mom." Scott wheezed out

"No, I meant us." In the next pause Scott managed to catch his breath and the rasping began to slow.

"We're best friends Stiles. We're never going to leave each other" Stiles nodded but was glad when they lapsed into silence. Best friends don't split up, they can't be broken. But then again isn't a marriage just two best friends? They break up all the time. The two of them were just examples of that.

That night when he got home it was to see his dad slumped over papers. Glass was smashed on the floor from where a bottle had slipped from his fingers. Stiles sighed and slowly cleared it up. He then dragged his dad over to the couch and laid a blanket over him. Then Stiles made himself a sandwich which he carried up to his room, there aren't any rules when your dad's passed out.

His dad clears up his act and puts the alcohol away after a memorable night. After that night rules are a lot more flexible and Stiles figures that the black eye was worth it kind of. Not that he'd repeat it. But he knew he shouldn't have brought up his mom at a time like that. Stiles isn't even sure if his dad remembers the night but Stiles remembers every detail of it. The next day he looks up self defence mechanisms and gets distracted with the history. As it never repeats itself he doesn't bother learning more. At school he was regarded as a bit of a freak. He was geeky and a lot more clever than most of the people there. At some point Scott had a series of asthma attacks and wasn't allowed back into school for two weeks. After eating alone for two weeks Stiles decided to develop a better sense of humour. When he acted out people laughed and so he did it more and more. And if he was kind of leaving Scott behind him who cares? Nothing lasts for ever, best friends were for five year olds. Stiles developed a sense of humour that targeted mostly him, that was the best thing to do if you're class clown. No one likes to be laughed at but everyone likes to laugh at someone. Really everything started going downhill when everyone else stopped laughing, when they rolled their eyes or remained silent instead. That left Stiles wondering, was it a joke? Or maybe, he was the joke, the fool, the freak.

Just before high school started Stiles decided that he couldn't sleep. Sleep had never been easy but ever since she'd died it had become almost impossible some nights. So he paid a call to Scott, he hadn't counted on the baseball bat though. As they ran through the woods Stiles felt really good. Really super good actually. Then the two of them had been separated and Stiles was sent back to his house. When the whole werewolf thing developed things went downhill. Suddenly Stiles was surrounded by muscles and he felt everything swirling out of control. He tried to hold on, researching for hours at a time, trying desperately to be worthwhile. But he couldn't be. Everyone was faster, stronger and better. He was falling behind. Scott McCall, with asthma so bad he had to miss weeks of school could run further than Stiles could. Lydia, who had never shown any interest in Stiles was now making out with Scott in a closet. Stiles found himself standing in front of the mirror almost every day very soon. He looked at his body and found it lacking. There wasn't an excessive amount of fat but there was still more than Scott had. He wasn't anywhere near as muscled as Scott. He couldn't run as far as Scott. The differences piled up minute after minute until Stiles couldn't take it anymore. The next day he skipped breakfast, whenever he was running late he skipped it anyway. That day he pocketed the money he was given for lunch. He sat in the library saying he had an assignment. It became a schedule and slowly, but surely, Stiles began to regain control. The numbers dropped down on the scales he had bought on day one.

Sometimes thought it was too much. Maybe Scott was munching through a bag of curly fries or Melissa McCall had just baked cookies. At these times Stiles felt the anxiety swell up in him, he wanted food but he shouldn't he shouldn't he shouldn't shouldn't shouldn't shouldn't shouldn't. This repeated in his head while his body moved of its own accord. His hands grabbed a handful of the fries while his mouth smirked at the look on Scott's face. His hands moved to take a cookie while he felt sick inside. When Allison and Scott got serious it hurt all the more, no matter how much progress Stiles had made (none of his trousers fitted anymore) Scott was better. When Peter offered Stiles the bite his mind leapt at the opportunity, he'd be perfect finally. But something stopped him. The same presence was there, his mother softly whispering his name over a crib. Stiles refused it, feeling ill. He couldn't let himself do that. He had to be human for her.

After that Stiles began to eat more. Never breakfast but normally lunch. Always dinner and occasionally a snack here and there. He trained as well, running laps with Scott and attempting to shoot with Allison. After he had shot himself in the foot twice she stopped the sessions. During the summer he gains control differently. He makes meals and he controls what he eats and really isn't that better? Sure, his first attempts resemble Peter Hale (he doesn't try that recipe again ever) but eventually the meals are alright. His dad's calmed down a lot and Stiles revels in the feeling that he is finally in control again. Of course the moment he gets back to school it crashes down around his ears.

Derek Hale is recruiting. With every new wolf made Stiles feels another pang. He could be like that. Isaac, Boyd, Erica, they're perfect. With everything going on Stiles reverts back to his old ways. Starving is very in at the moment anyway. He watches as everything crumbles. He begins to blur conversations. Kanimas, Jackson, who cares? Well, apart from Scott. But he cares about everything. Except Stiles apparently, because even though Stiles is back to eating one meal a day Scot doesn't care. Stiles vents his fury on Jackson until he can't and he's yelled at again by his dad. And if Stiles starts to have small black outs who cares?

When Allison is gone Stiles is please, whilst Scott is moping they can actually spend time together for once. Scott begins to notice stuff then, when his girlfriend is off in France. So Stiles relaxes a little bit, back up to two meals a day whenever Scott is around. When Allison is back school becomes worse and worse until Stiles begins skipping days. He's never been able to concentrate and ever since the werewolfy stuff appeared he just couldn't keep perfect attendance. Very soon Stiles has to drag himself out of bed. He doesn't grab a snack or lunch but just heads out the door. He can keep up a good front though. That is, until his father is kidnapped. Every muscle in his body screams at him. His mind is firing off faster than it has before. He can't concentrate and he can't stay still but he doesn't have the energy to get up. It's almost a relief when he sacrifices himself. At least he's doing something. At least he's not just sat there being useless, fat, terribly human Stiles. It's the aftermath that's the worst. One moment he's in terrible searing pain the next completely numb. His appetite is the same, one moment he's eating everything he can get his hands on and the next the thought of food revolts him. He has coping strategies though. When he's in agony he stays still and sleeps, or tries to. When he's numb he takes out his scissors until he sees red.

One thing that's constant is the cold. Before he was chilly but now all he can feel is the ice around him, enveloping him. Inside and out he is freezing. After that he doesn't know what's real and what's not. He talks to his mother and father. He thinks one of them is dead but he doesn't remember. Peter yells at him and throws fire and Stiles accepts it but it doesn't warm him. Sometimes he throws the fire and sometimes it's a half human half lizard creature. Some days he eats so much he explodes, literally. Other times he counts his fingers carefully before stuffing them down his throat. By the time he's done he can't remember how many fingers he had.

When the creature is out of him Stiles doesn't feel better. If anything he feels worse. Because suddenly he can't blame anything on a dream. He runs to the toilet after every meal and throws up. Sometimes he makes it happen but often it just does. He doesn't feel her presence anymore. He figures it's because she doesn't want him. Why would she? Everyone else is fasterstrongerbetter. Everyone else is worth saving. Surely, the only reason he came back to life was for him to give it up? But before he could Allison was gone. Scott was wrecked. Isaac was barely holding it together. But there are a lot of reasons someone becomes a true Alpha and giving up is not one of those reasons. Scott refuses to let Stiles die but all Stiles can think is that it's the least he deserves. When the fox is finally killed Stiles feels something falling away from him. He later realises what it was; the feeling his mother was close by. The idea that a monster made him feel that is enough to send him rushing to throw up the contents of his empty stomach.

After that Scott recluses himself. Isaac and Chris Argent travel halfway across the world and Derek seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Everyone is mourning a loss. Allison and Aiden are both cold in the ground. Stiles sometimes wonders if they can talk to his mother. He knows it's silly, he hasn't believed in an afterlife for since his mom died. More and more he starts to think about it though. He thinks of the afterlife, heave, hell, purgatory and death. He's seen how many people can die in violent 'accidents'. He wonders when he'll join them. He faints on an almost daily basis, he doesn't eat. He can't sleep. He cuts and cuts until he can't see skin for the blood. He still keeps it a secret though. Who could he tell? Scott was still caught up in Allison's death. As was Lydia. Stile's father was super busy rebuilding the police station after the Oni attack. Mrs McCall was too busy with Mr McCall. All in all there was no one left for Stiles until it was almost too late.

He didn't want to go by starving himself. He almost did though. Every time he stood up his vision was filled with black spots. He fainted at least once a day and slept for at least twelve hours each day. He was never warm and each rib was shown in stark detail against his snow white flesh. When he sat down he couldn't get his thighs to touch no matter how much he pushed. There wasn't any fat left but there wasn't any muscle either. Just the bones. That's all that was left of his mum though, and Allison and Boyd, Erica, Aiden. He wasn't far off joining them. But one day he decided that enough was enough. He was through being ignored. He was through with every one being fasterstrongerbetter than him. Everyone was equal in death at least. Those were the thoughts in his head when he was standing at the top of the school. There wasn't anywhere else to go. The hospital was tall but constantly manned. The school had several hours until anyone would come by. So Stiles waited. His phone was clenched in his hand, he had changed the password before he had left. No one would be able to track him. No one knew his name. Anyway, no one cared about him so why would they look? His dad was working the night shift and wouldn't get home until it was all over for Stiles. No one else cared. If they did he wouldn't be sitting there because he couldn't even find the energy to stand up. His top wouldn't catch at every micro movement. He watched as the last car pulled away. There was no point doing this when someone else could see.

He placed the phone on the stairwell. In three hours it would send a message to the hospital to collect his body. By then the chances of him surviving were almost nothing. Even if he survived the initial jump his body was worn down. It had broken just like his life. He stood slowly, swaying slightly in the breeze and then he leaned forwards. For a moment he felt as if he was flying, the wind was buffeting him this way and that but it was glorious. The last thing he remembered before he met the concrete was an inhuman screech and the presence of his mother one last time.

* * *

Don't worry, this isn't the end of the story, that would be just cruel. As of me writing this at half past 1 in the morning on the 18/7/14 (British time, i think we're on Summer time but I have no idea cause I am terrible with those things and I should probably be asleep right now) I have written nearly 10 000 words and I am only just getting started on the plot. (Apparently there's now a plot which there wasn't when I started to write this). I cannot promise regular updates. I cannot promise quality or quantity (which really leaves us with not a lot). But if you liked it then please favourite/ follow/ review. Also I wrote this entire chapter in one burst from 1 AM to 3:44AM so if there are terrible mistakes please just PM me or review and tell me about them.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm baaack! I was only meant to upload this after writing another 2000 words but I got sidetracked... Anyway, the same warnings on the last chapter as on this one, really the warnings are for the entire fic. I hope you enjoy this!

* * *

"STILES" Scott roared but the wind grasped his words and tore them apart. He was joined in the shout by Lydia, Lydia who had noticed something and had taken him here. But a banshee and a true Alpha are nothing against gravity. Stiles crashed against the ground and lay there. Scott ran forwards, not noticing he'd wolfed out until he was next to Stiles. Lydia was still a way away running as fast as she could

"Call an ambulance!" Scott growled out from sharpened fangs "And his dad" Lydia nodded and rifled through her bag coming up with her phone. Scott phased out the sound of her voice and instead concentrated on Stiles. He looked like hell. His cheekbones were like tombstones in the graveyard of his face. His normally pale face was grey and blood surrounded him. His eyes were squeezed shut and a single tear trickled down his face. Scott looked away for a second feeling sick, then he took a deep breath and he slowly shifted back to human. He took hold of Stile's arm carefully, avoiding moving his body in case of spinal injuries. Scott's veins bulged, black for a second as he tried to help his best friend. But for every ounce of pain Scott took from Stiles there was still so much more. Scott felt tears streaming down his face as he realised how much agony Stiles was actually in. Lydia joined him after finishing the calls.

"An ambulance is on its way. I couldn't get hold of his dad but" she paused here taking a deep breath so she could continue talking "The hospital will get him."

"My mum's on call at the moment so she can help" they sat there for a few minutes as Lydia applied pressure to the wounds she could. When the ambulance arrived they were left alone in front of the school. There had been too many doctors needing to be close to Stiles to let them in.

"Did you see it?" Scott asked Lydia three hours after Stiles' attempted death. Stiles was still in surgery fighting for his life.

"Not really. I mean, he got quieter but I thought it was just a Stiles thing, you know?" Scott nodded and looked away. He tried to work out at what point his best friend had resorted to this. Was it before the hotel with the high suicide rates? Was that still affecting Stiles?

"Scott" Scott's head snapped up as his mother entered the room

"Do you have news about Stiles? Is he okay? Is he going to be okay?"

"Calm down Scott!" he opened his mouth once more before sitting down on the uncomfortable seat looking expectantly up at Melissa.

"His injuries are severe. Some of his ribs are shattered, he broke almost every bone in his body and he has severe organ damage. He appears to be half starved and has multiple small lacerations. We believe, so far that these were self-inflicted. If he survives the next twenty four hours he has a good chance of surviving but we can't be sure because there might be" here she broke off into a sob. "There might be internal bleeding we ca- ca- can't see." She sat down on one of the chairs and put her head into her hands. "Why didn't I spot this? Why didn't I see this coming?"

"Mom, none of us did. You know Stiles. He hides things." Melissa nodded and then shook her head as if to clear it.

"Okay, my shift finishes in half an hour. I'm going to grab some clothes for the two of us and then come straight back here."

"You're not going to make us leave?" Melissa fixed her son with a look which was half condescending, half bemused

"I don't think there's a single thing I could do to make you leave him right now." That got a smile out of Scott, a tiny one but a smile none the less. An hour later Melissa returned with a pack of clothes for each of them and a completely drunk Sheriff Stilinski. Lydia and Scott had decided to not tell Malia or Kira for the simple fact that they didn't need to know. But he held onto his phone turning it over and over in his hand. The message had come in from Stiles and Scott was still so confused over the whole thing. Why would Stiles starve himself? Why would he be covered in those little scars? Why would he try to kill himself? It didn't make sense. At about 3:44 he fell into a dreamless sleep still plagued by those questions.

When he awoke it was to Lydia shaking him awake

"The sheriff is in with him. They finished the surgery but we're not allowed in yet" Scott nodded and put his head in his hands ready for another long wait.

"When are we allowed in?" Lydia just shrugged. Scott nodded. Outside the sun began to rise. The first tendrils of light crept along the floor, moving as time crawled on. Lydia began to get impatient and opened up her phone before putting it back down. There was no one she wanted to talk to except Stiles. Scott was slowly sheathing and unsheathing his claws as he worried over his best friend. When noon arrived they were finally allowed to go into Stiles' room. Just before they did Melissa took them both to one side.

"He's being kept in a medically induced coma so his body can have a better chance of healing. He's being fed intravenously until he can wake up. I don't know but if there is something" here she gestured at her son "supernatural that can help him then you need to find it." Scott nodded and then took up his vigil beside his best friend.

Two days later Stiles came out of the coma. Scott had just dragged Sheriff Stilinski home and so when Stiles awoke it was to just Lydia.

Lydia heard a rustle of sheets and she opened her eyes slowly. It was sometime in the early morning and she had just been fast asleep. She found herself draped across two chairs beside Stiles' bed. She glanced to the bed in question and saw two brown eyes staring back.

"Stiles! What the hell where you thinking!? You nearly died! You-" she broke off as the door opened to the night nurse. He took one look at Stiles and gently pushed him back onto the pillows from which he was trying to rise.

"Stiles, can you hear me?" Stiles nodded slowly as if he wasn't quite sure. "You're in Beacon Hills hospital recovering from a failed suicide attempt. You may not leave the bed." Stiles nodded again, his eyes were more focused when he did so. "Can you say talk?"

"Yeah" Stiles' voice was quiet and hoarse but it was there none the less

"Okay, we're going to need to keep you for at least twenty four hours because of the suicide risk. Do you want your friend here with you?" Stiles nodded again and the nurse turned to Lydia "He's still under some of the effects so he might not be very coherent. He has to remain calm. If you aggravate him then you'll be back in the waiting room faster than you can say hospital. Got it?" Lydia nodded and the nurse began to bustle around Stiles, performing tests. Very soon the two of them were left alone.

"Your hair's r'lly pr'ty you kn'w Lyd'a" Stiles slurred out "Re'lly re'lly prty. 'S like sun 'nd n'ce st'ff. Y'r pr'ty." And just like that Lydia's anger vanished. How could she remain angry when Stiles was this helpless?

"Lie back down Stiles. Scott will be here soon"

"Sc'tts n'ce too. N't pr'ty tho'. N't l'k' y'u. Y'r pr'ty. I h'd a cr'sh on 'u. 'Nd 'im. Y'u kn'w. T'll w'rd, grr grr grr." Stiles mimed claws scratching the air for a moment before his arms fell to his sides again. At that point Stiles started to laugh quietly. He stopped suddenly and glared straight at Lydia before delivering his next sentence with the utmost seriousness "N'w h's 'n Alpha. A troo Al'a."

"Okay Stiles."

"D'n't w'nt me n'w. N't p'rt 'f da p'ck. H'm'n" Stiles gestured to himself and then emitted a huge yawn

"Lie back down Stiles. Sleep a little bit more"

"Y'h! Sl'ps g'd. N'ce sle'p. M'ms sle'ing n'w. Sh's h'ppy. L'k 'llyson" Lydia looked up sharply at that but Stiles was already nodding back off, mumbling more into his pillow. Half an hour later Scott was back and Lydia told him about Stiles waking up. She kept quiet what he'd said though.

When Stiles next woke up he was a lot more lucid and managed to keep a conversation going.

"Hey Scott" Scott and Lydia both snapped their heads around to look at Stiles whose eyes were cracked slightly open

"Stiles!" A warm smile spread over Scott's face as his friend returned to some consciousness.

"Heey. How long have I been out?"

"You woke up yesterday but for less than five minutes. Do you remember?" Stiles shook his head slowly

"I just remember the school and" then his face drained of the little colour it had "Oh" Lydia chose that moment to start talking

"You've been off school for four days now so you've got homework." Stiles pulled a face at this "Luckily for you, you have excellent taste in friends" she smirked as she watched Stiles realise what she meant

"Oh my god Lydia thank you so much. I could not stand a single one of those stupid maths problems right now." Scott was still at the back of the room whilst Lydia had moved forwards. He wanted to yell at Stiles, ask what he'd been thinking but he didn't. Instead he joined Lydia and they spent the next twenty minutes talking about un-important things.

"Guys do you know when they're taking me off the local anaesthetic?" Lydia frowned and turned to Scott

"They never gave you any." Stiles, who had been fiddling with the blankets stilled at that

"Are you sure?" Scott glanced at Lydia thinking what they had given Stiles. There had been a lot of drugs but they were painkillers. The general anaesthetic had been given to him during his surgery.

"Why are you asking Stiles?" Scott looked at his friend, worried. Stiles closed his eyes and put his head back on the pillow. The heart beat monitor starting dancing like crazy.

"Get a doctor Lydia. I need one now." Stiles' voice was flat, expressionless. When Lydia had run from the room Stiles began to take deeper breaths

"Stiles! What's wrong?"

"My legs Scott. I can't feel them."

* * *

Sorry for the sheer amount of Stile's lack of ability to speak in this chapter, it will get better. Also if someone wants me to tell them what he actually says then I can PM you the conversation where he's still half sedated. Also, on a similar note, thank you so much for the responses! It made me very happy and made me push forward the publishing of this chapter a bit.


	3. Chapter 3

I have been in France ever since the last chapter with my orchestra which is why this chapter is later. I do not know anything about American Healthcare but what I do know is that it's expensive. Tbh that's about it. But here is the next chapter, thank you for all the people who reviewed, followed or favourited. You made a very nice surprise with my first wifi back at home. Anyway, enjoy this chapter :)

* * *

After nearly two months Stiles was finally allowed to go home with strict orders to rest and a meal plan to stick to. When he left the hospital it was in a wheelchair. This was partly because of the injuries he had sustained, almost every inch of him was covered in plaster, but it was mostly because the feeling hadn't come back into his legs. The doctors had mentioned that it might be temporary but it wasn't heartfelt. Stiles couldn't feel anything from middle of his back downwards. A spinal vertebrae had snapped in half and had severed the spinal cord at that point. His right arm was in plaster as where his legs. He had been told to be very careful until he healed. The Sheriff had taken his keys and yelled at him when Stiles refused to sit in the wheelchair. And so when he left the hospital he was quiet and sullen. He had been approached about the cuts littering his body and his starved form but he refused the help. Every time someone talked to him he clammed up and refused to acknowledge their presence until they changed topic. The doctors could make no progress on him and his dad was fast running out of money to pay for the hospital visit, the insurance company having refused to pay for the suicide attempt.

When Stiles got home he sat on his bed, which had been moved from upstairs with the help of a werewolf, a kitsune and a very human Sheriff. He could feel the darkness slowly creeping in. In the hospital he had warded it off but now it was coming back. One thing he'd never told Scott was that he could still see everything the Nogitsune saw when it had released his body. He had also seen through the eyes of the Oni. He often wondered if somewhere in the depths of his brain the Nogitsune was still there, waiting for the right time. He heard the door slowly opening and turned to see his dad walk in.

"Mind if I join you?"

"No sure dad" The sheriff nodded and took a seat on the edge of the bed looking highly uncomfortable

"Stiles, we need to talk"

"Sure dad, what's up?"

"Stiles, I need to know why you did this. We need to fix it somehow. Maybe that's something" he gestured with his hands "Not entirely human or maybe it's just getting a counsellor."

"Dad, there's nothing to talk about"

"Really Stiles? Really? You want me to believe that?" The Sheriff's voice rose as he spoke "You jumped off a building Stiles! You nearly died!" Stiles turned back around and took out his phone. The sheriff deflated "Stiles, don't do that to me. I'm just trying to help." When he got no answer from his son the sheriff sighed and walked out the door "By the way, dinner's in ten minutes. Melissa and Scott are coming as well." When this also elicited no response the sheriff sighed again and walked out the door.

Dinner was tense as always. Whenever Stiles stopped eating the table would stare at him in turns, trying to be subtle. When he was eating he felt sick. He wasn't used to eating more than a sandwich let alone a full meal. By the end he was nauseous and half of his plate was untouched

"Are you done Stiles?" Scott was trying to be subtle but with the same amount of tact as the proverbial bull in the china shop.

"Yeah Scott. I think that's enough for now." Scott looked at the plate, seeing how much was still left. He then stared back up at Stiles engaging the puppy eyes. Damn those puppy eyes Stiles thought. "It's not that much..."

"Geez Scott I wonder why that is! Could it be because I've been living off hospital food for the last month? Or maybe it's because I've been starving myself as you all think. Or maybe, Scott I'M JUST NOT HUNGRY." Scott recoiled as if he'd been stung and the table lapsed into silence. After a few minutes Stiles muttered his thanks and wheeled away from the table. When he was back in his room he made the careful transition from the chair to the bed and closed his eyes. He shouldn't have said that but it came out and now, now Scott would be out there trying to figure out if he really needed a useless friend.

No one followed Stiles and shortly afterwards Scott and Melissa left, promising to return later in the week. However every time Scott called Stiles he was inexplicably busy. He was out shopping, he was in the shower (which was a whole new process in a wheelchair), he was with relatives, the list was endless. The Sheriff always delivered the messages in the same flat tone of voice, letting Scott know that the excuses were just that, excuses. Scott didn't know what to do, between school, work and trying to find Derek there was almost no time left. It wasn't until Monday that Scott got to talk to Stiles, when Stiles arrived back to school a week earlier than planned.

When Scott woke up on Monday he looked at the clock and rolled back over. And thus, when he eventually woke up he was already nearly late. He glanced at the clock and slowly the numbers formed some meaning. When they did he swore and leapt up. He threw on the first set of clothes he could find, some jeans that were too big and a band t-shirt from a band he'd never liked. He ran downstairs and leapt onto his motorbike and arrived only five minutes after school had started. He rushed down the empty halls until he finally got to Chemistry and threw himself into the nearest seat

"Good of you to join us Mr McCall. Can I ask why it took so long?" the teacher raised an eyebrow imperiously

"Sorry sir, my clock was at the wrong time"

"Hmm, don't make a habit of it McCall" with that he moved back to teaching about ionic equations or something and Scott relaxed. He glanced at the person sat next to him, Greenburg, who else would it be? Scott sighed and slouched deeper into his seat ready for yet another tedious class. Throughout most of the class Scott was zoned out, trying to figure out how to contact Stiles. He was shaken out of his reverie when Greenburg elbowed him sharply.

"Scott," he nodded over to the seat across the other side of the classroom where Lydia sat. She had been desperately trying to get his attention for the best part of half an hour.

"What?" he mouthed across the classroom. She rolled her eyes and grabbed her phone from her bag, typing expertly under the desk without so much as a glance at the screen. Scott turned his head slightly to pick up the sound of keys. It had been something Stiles had said a few months before. Every keypad had a different amount of wear and so, technically Scott should be able to hear a text message. It hadn't worked but Scott still tried. He glanced quickly downwards as his phone buzzed.

_Where have you been over the weekend? Did Stiles get a chance to tell you?_

Scott looked up, confused before typing back, a lot slower

_What was he meant to tell me?_

Lydia rolled her eyes slightly before typing something else out. Just as Scott glanced down he felt a presence behind him.

"Scott McCall, I can allow for some tardiness. I can maybe even stretch to allowing a student to remain in my class when they are not paying attention. However texting in a lesson, that I cannot allow. Give me the phone and go down to the principal's office."

"But-"

"Now Mr McCall" Scott sighed and gave the teacher his phone with a promise he could get it back at the end of school. He then grabbed his bag and walked out of the classroom. It was only at lunch he finally got to catch up with Lydia.

"Lydia what were you trying to tell me?" but Lydia didn't get a chance to answer as another, very familiar, head appeared at their table. The normally pink face was almost grey and he was sat in a wheelchair. Plaster surrounded his left arm which he rested gingerly on his legs, which had similar plaster. The t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to disguise the ribs poking out and nothing could hide the cheekbones which stood out against the rest of the lifeless skin.

"Hey guys" Stiles said

* * *

The next chapter should be up in a couple of days, hopefully...


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles hadn't eaten in 20 hours, not properly anyway. He had taken the supplements he was meant to but he had slept in on purpose so he had to rush out of the door before he ate. His dad had been on late night shift and so had made a meal for Stiles and left it in the fridge rather than eat with him. Stiles had said Scott had come over and he had ignored Scott when he tried to come over. All in all it was working quite well. But, he was bored. He'd never been good at being sick. There were that time he had got swine flu and tried to get into school. At that point his dad had stopped him and damned him to a day of sitting around doing nothing. And now he couldn't stand, couldn't run off his nervous energy. All he could do was sit and lie down. So sue him for wanting to do something more exciting.

"Stiles, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see how fun school would be now that nothing freaky's going down around here. Apparently it's really really boring." Lydia rolled her eyes at his sarcasm

"But you're not meant to be back yet Stiles"

"I wanted a change of scenery Scott, you would too if you couldn't walk." Scott glanced down and then nodded. The group fell into an easy chatter, apart from Malia who stalked off after noticing Stiles was there. Every few seconds Lydia or Scott would glance over at Stiles but he studiously ignored their pointed glances. They didn't need to worry though; he got through almost all of his lunch, pocketing the apple for later. The next class was English which Stiles zoned out for the majority of it. It was easier like that; then he didn't need to feel the other pupils staring at him. But he could feel the weight of the food in his stomach and the apple in his pocket. After fifteen minutes he couldn't help it any longer

"Miss, can I go to the loo please?"

"Couldn't you have gone during lunch?" she said without even looking up from the pile of papers she was marking. A hush fell over the classroom before Stiles answered. All of the pupils turned to stare at him or the teacher.

"I was having difficulty getting anywhere to be honest" at that the teacher looked up and realised who was talking. She blushed red and muttered that Stiles could go. He awkwardly wheeled himself out of the classroom trying to ignore the stares that followed him. At least there was something good about not being able to walk, everyone was embarrassed about it. When Stiles was in the bathroom (thank goodness there was a disabled stall before all this happened) he put two fingers down his throat quietly. The food from lunch emptied into the bowl and Stiles flushed it down. He took a large gulp of water and that followed the vomit into the bowl. He didn't feel better. He felt dirty, empty and so revolted at himself. He wasn't fasterstrongerbetter. He was Stiles. Feeling dejected he wheeled himself back into the classroom and picked up the book they were studying.

He was so pleased when the bell finally rang throughout the school and he shoved his books into his bag. The teacher called him over.

"Stiles, about earlier, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offence"

"None taken seriously it's all fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep!"

"Go off to your next lesson and tell the teacher that I kept you if they make a fuss." Stiles nodded as he wheeled out of the door. His next class was Economics with Coach, he doubted Coach had even noticed Stiles was gone. However when he did finally get to Economics (why oh why did the school put it on the second floor while the elevator was on the opposite side of the building?) Coach did notice. He was in the middle of a speech about how important it was to get health insurance when Stiles wheeled in. Coach paused in the middle of the speech which was kind of a first. Stiles could feel, yet again, everyone's eyes turn to him.

"Stilinski, good to have you back"

"Good to be back Coach" if Coach noticed the sarcasm dripping from every word he didn't say anything, instead gestured to a desk next to Scott devoid of a chair.

"Anyway as I was saying" Scott glared at Stiles as he sat down. Stiles was surprised, Scott was almost wolfed out in the classroom. His eyes were flashing red and the desk beneath him was developing some serious gouges

"What's the problem dude?"

"What's the problem?!" And there were the fangs. "I thought you were getting better!"

"McCall! Shut up!" In a moment Scott was back to human, the fangs had receded and his eyes were no longer blood red.

"Yes Coach" Stiles then sat through the entire class with Scott staring daggers into his back. Every time Scott was about to speak Stiles' hand would shoot up giving the coach no one else to pick on. By the end of the lesson Coach was telling him to put his hand down, to let someone else have a go.

"Alright, everyone on the lacrosse team I want you outside ready to go in five minutes. We don't have time to waste this season!" Coach yelled over the sound of the final bell "Stiles, could I have a word?" Stiles groaned under his breath but wheeled to the front

"Yeah coach?"

"Look Stiles, is there any chance of you getting out of that wheelchair?"

"Very little sir"

"Dammit, you were a good player"

"What?"

"Well, maybe not skill wise but you had guts. You were committed and ready to go every session. More so then Scott ever was and he's the captain!"

"Well sorry sir, unless the doctors find a way of knitting a spinal cord back together I have no chance."

"Pity" with that Coach strode from the room, leaving Stiles in his wake.

He sighed and left the room with his bag slung over his shoulder, got into Lydia's car in silence and as she drove he remained silent. When he walked through the door it was to find his father sat at the table waiting for him. Next to him was Kira and Scott. Lydia took a seat beside them.

"Is this an intervention? Is that actually what's happening right now?"

"Stiles,"

"No dad, answer my question. Is this an intervention?"

"Yes Stiles it is" Stiles rounded on Scott at that

"I thought the intervention was meant to happen _before _I tried to kill myself" Scott winced at that

"That's not fair Stiles"

"Really Scott? Do you want to know what else isn't fair? I messed up death. You helped me mess it up. I'm not forgiving that for a while"

"Stiles!"

"No dad, you don't get to talk now either."

"Stiles we are not going to let you starve yourself"

"You let it happen last time" this was delivered coldly, devoid of emotion. The sheriff recoiled immediately and fell silent.

"Stiles just calm down" Lydia was rubbing her forehead while she said this.

"Fine" Stiles wheeled over to the other side of the room and dumped his school bag

"Stiles, we're going to help you get through this." Kira finally spoke

"How are you going to do that then?"

"First of by making a food plan" The sheriff sounded tired but he normally did.

"You're sticking to it" Scott growled out

"What if I don't like the food?"

"Then we'll get you _new_ food Stiles!" There was a false cheeriness injected into Lydia's voice

"And no more throwing up" This was growled as Scott's eyes began to slowly change red and his claws extended. The Sheriff looked very worried about the new development

"Hey Scott, it's a new table" Scott look a deep breath and the claws slowly drew themselves back into his skin.

"So, is the intervention over?"

"Nope!" Stiles rolled his eyes at Lydia's response

"My mum took a course in phycology a while ago and she agreed to have weekly meetings with you to help you a bit" Stiles glanced to where Kira sat while she talked. She wasn't smiling, instead she had a lost sort of look on her face as if she was terrified of what would come next.

"By a while ago do you mean a few months or a few decades?"

"Um, she took it when I was thirteen"

"Oh good, electroshock is probably out of the question then" Stiles knew he was being an asshole but he didn't care. Kira glanced down again and Stiles felt the urge to go upstairs and shred away the skin on his waist.

"Do I get a choice in all of this?"

"Nope!"

"Stiles, either you agree to this or I will personally hold you down and force feed you until you do agree to do it."

"Well when you put it like that how can a guy refuse?" Stiles' mood was quickly darkening and with it came the sarcasm which pushed his friends away. He turned around and wheeled away into his new room. He took a book off the shelf and tried to read it. Half an hour later he had read the first sentence a few hundred times and it hadn't yet sunk in. Instead he was just planning what he was going to do next, he had to be more sensible. This time Scott and Lydia couldn't find him.


	5. Chapter 5

When Kira got home she wasn't in the mood to eat. She paced and she paced, thoughts building in her head. When her father popped his head around the door Kira jumped and suddenly all the power in the house flickered off.

"Kira, are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm great dad, how are you?" she kept on pacing in the darkness until she felt her father's hands upon her own.

"Kira, what's wrong?" She wanted to tell her dad but she'd made a promise to Stiles and Scott.

"I can't tell you dad"

"Kira, it's not like last time is it?" Kira shook her head and then remembered the darkness that surrounded them

"No, it's just-"

"Is this about Stiles Stilinski?"

"Yeah, what do you know about him?" her father breathed in deeply, sitting back on the bed. She nervously took a seat beside him

"His father informed the staff that taught him that Stiles was going through a hard time. No specifics but I know what he means to Scott. But Kira, you need to remember that no matter what happens a friend is not as important as you are. You have to put your needs above other people"

"I know dad"

"Good, we should probably go back down and eat"

"I'm not really,"

"Kira, food will make you feel a lot better" Kira sighed and nodded, knowing her father was right. Food made her better nowadays. There had been a time when that wasn't true but that time was gone. She smiled and followed her father back downstairs, as she walked through the house lights began to glow faintly and by the time she was sat at the table all the power was back.

That night she stayed up going over lists of contacts, friends, helpers, clinics all of it. She re read pages and pages, half-forgotten words coming to mind. Halfway through she rose to get a snack and then the familiar monster rose and she sat back down. She scrolled through page after page of stories, mother talking about how their daughter had pulled through, brothers who had sat by their sister's bedside when her heat had finally given out, fathers trying to understand their son's conditions. She began crying at some point, silent tears that slowly made their way down her face until they dripped one by one onto her laptop.

When she woke up the next day she felt calmer then she had in a while. She grabbed the research from the previous night and stuffed it into her backpack. Her parents wouldn't take kindly to seeing those names again. When she got to school she headed straight for Scott's locker. He was stood there talking in hushed tones to Lydia

"What's wrong, is it Stiles?"

"No, Lydia thinks she knows where Derek is" Lydia looked much shaken, her hands were shaking as she clutched her handbag.

"Where?"

"She saw-"

"I saw Kate Argent."

"Who?"

"She seduced Derek for a while when he was younger and then burnt his house down. She then came back and turned Allison into a psychotic killing machine, before Peter ripped her throat out" Kira turned to see Stiles behind her "And I presume she's not entirely human anymore?"

"She looked like she'd been turned by an Alpha, but how could that have happened?" Scott looked curious for a second before realisation dawned on him

"His claws. She said that if an Alpha's claws go deep enough they can turn a human. That was how they thought Jackson was me"

"Whoa, who's Jackson?"

"Lydia's ex-boyfriend, captain" Scott shot Stiles a glance "Okay, co-captain of the lacrosse team. He worked it all out and when he was bitten by Derek he turned into a lizard who went on a killing spree"

"Derek turned into a lizard or Jackson?"

"Jackson" Stiles said exasperated "Derek's too hairy for that"

"So, how are we going to get him back?" Kira glanced around, nervous. She was almost always nervous nowadays. But then again, that's one of the side effects of having a crush around constantly.

"I phoned in help." Everyone turned to stare at Scott then

"Who do we know who would help us?"

"There's me for one" The group turned to see a boy slouching in the shadows. Scott laughed and walked towards the shadowy figure, slapping him on the back. Stiles rolled his eyes but was smiling as well. Even Lydia cracked a smile. Malia walked up next to Kira and wrinkled her nose

"Why's he here?" while Malia said this she wrinkled her nose some more. The figure stepped forwards so that he was in the full light. He didn't look so good. His gold brown hair hang around his shoulders. There were bags under his eyes and there were scratches on his cheek that didn't look like they were healing.

"Scott called and I guess, technically he's still my Alpha so here I am"

"What did you do to your cheek Isaac?" Scott tried to take a look at it but Isaac jerked backwards

"I got into a fight with an Alpha back in Russia"

"What were you doing in Russia?" As Kira asked this Isaac stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets

"Running helped me think more clearly. Anyway, I don't think the others are coming Scott, not yet at least."

"We're going to need to wait a while anyway, don't worry about it."

"Where even is Derek?" Stiles piped up

"Lydia thought he was being kept underground somewhere"

"Well I'm glad that narrows down the search then" Isaac said while he ran a hand through his hair. "Does anyone have a pair of scissors?"

"I do" Kira took the opportunity to rifle through her bag while Stiles responded to Isaac

"You know I missed that, I really missed Mr Happy over there" Kira handed the scissors to Isaac who promptly raised them to his head

"Isaac, how long did it take to get here?"

"I started running as soon as you called me"

"I called you about a month ago about Stiles"

"Yeah about then I guess" With a few snips hair began to fall into Isaac's other hand. When the hair looked a bit more like it normally was he handed the scissors back with a smile and deposited the hair in the nearest bin. "Thanks" he smirked at Kira as he handed the scissors back. She blushed while stuffing them back into her bag.

"Isaac, that's not healthy" Stiles rolled his eyes while Scott said that "Go to my house and get some rest, you look like hell" Isaac wavered before nodding and holding out his hand for the key Scott held

"Come back when you're better Isaac, we're going to need you" Isaac nodded and sauntered off. The bell chose that moment to ring and Kira rushed off to History with Malia in tow. Throughout the lesson Malia was glaring at the top of her desk rather than working. When the class broke off into pairs Kira nudged Malia lightly.

"Are you okay?" Malia grunted in acquiescence

"Are you going to help me with this then?" Malia dragged her eyes away from the desk to the worksheet in front of her. She continued glaring before scribbling out an answer to the first one. It was wrong

"What?" she snarled at Kira

"That's not right Malia…"

"Then you answer it"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah now give me some help with this" Kira opened her mouth and then closed it again, there was no point arguing with Malia in a mood like this. Lunch was a tense affair; Scott wasn't even trying to be subtle as he glared Stiles down. Lydia was somewhere else, she hadn't told them where. Kira was picking at her food, the papers in her bag weighing down on her consciousness. Malia was glaring at Stiles while she ate and Stiles was steadily getting through a sandwich, incredibly slowly. After about ten minutes Malia grabbed her bags and left. Kira left a few minutes after, the silence was getting unbearable. Kira and Stiles shared Biology right after lunch, Stiles sat at the desk to Kira's right. A few minutes in he stuck his hand up to go to the loo. The teacher sighed and nodded. Kira took her chance, while the teacher's back was turned she slipped the papers into his bag.

When he came back he looked pale and drawn

"Hey Kira, do you have some gum I could borrow?"

"Sure" Kira dug into her bag and pulled out a pack. Stiles smiled in thanks and began to chew one. As he handed the pack back she noticed the red raised knuckled of his left hand. She felt her stomach drop at yet another sign she knew too well. She spent the rest of the lesson glancing over at Stiles, by the end he looked frustrated by it. At the end of the lesson she kept her eyes fixed on him hoping to talk to him. He wheeled off, pausing by the bin to spit the chewing gum into it. He was immediately caught up by the crowd and she lost sight of him.

When she tried to catch up with him at the end of school it was to find him getting into his dad's car. Scott stood next to him, talking about something with a smile on his face. That made Kira hesitate, could she really ruin a moment like that? She turned away, it had probably been a one-time thing and Stiles was sure to eat that night at least. She ignored the pang of guilt she felt as she turned away. That night she didn't feel like eating, her parents were having an evening out together. So instead she stayed hungry, remembering how it felt weirdly good. When she got into bed she couldn't sleep and instead went down to the basement, to the boxes that were still packed. She opened them and rifled through the larger ones until she found what she was looking for. It took a while to haul the full size mirror up to her room and even longer to stuff it into her wardrobe. However the second one might have been her conscience rather than anything else. When she finally did she pulled an ankle length dress over it and lay tossing and turning for most of the night.

* * *

I'm thinking of re naming this as "Every one in Beacon Hills had issues and it takes Stiles to lose it for the rest of them to actually talk like proper human beings or whatever they are". Well, probably something shorter but you get my gist. This is now the last chapter I have written so the chapters will become even more erratic. Yeah, I know. This is why my one shot at having a Beta reader backfired so spectacularly. So I will try to write more but at the moment I have about 500 words in reserve and family pulling me out of the house. So, I'll try


	6. Chapter 6

The next day Stiles wasn't in school, instead he was back in the hospital for an appointment. Scott had texted him in the early hours. He rolled over and grabbed his phone off the table which was serving as a desk. The phone screen was blinding in contrast to the dark of night that still sheltered him.

_Good luck today_

_Lydia thinks she found something about Derek_

_Meet us my house 5PM_

_-The annoying fur ball with the red eyes_

Stiles smiled at the last part, the previous day when Scott had been annoying him Stiles had nabbed his phone. Hopefully Scott would get the message. Stiles shoved his phone back onto his desk (table) and rolled over, trying to avoid jarring his legs. He wasn't looking forward to the appointment. Instead he closed his eyes and silently counted.

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11_

They went on for ever, his height, his weight, his intelligence. They went on and on so far that he lost track several times. He eventually drifted off to his failures. When he next woke up the sun was streaming through the window and his father was knocking impatiently on the door.

"Stiles? We need to go"

"Yeah dad, I'll be right there!" Stiles mumbled as he snuggled deeper into his pillow. He then heard his Dad sigh and the door creak open

"Stiles, get up"

"Five more minutes, I'll be up then" Stiles murmured, the warmth of sleep still clutching him. His dad left and darkness covered Stiles vision as he released himself to sleep. He tried to find his way back to the dream, a field filled with sunshine and pollen somewhere….

He was jolted awake as a sharp cold hit him, the dream around him evaporated as he sat up spluttering. Above him the sheriff smirked, an empty bucket clutched in one hand.

"Whatwasthatfor?" Stiles spluttered out

"You were meant to get up two hours ago Stiles. Now get yourself in the shower or we'll be late." Stiles moaned but obeyed, the sheriff sighed and began gathering up the bed sheets before throwing them into the wash.

When Stiles had showered and eaten they made their way to the hospital. Stiles was nervously tapping at the window as the car bumped its way along the roads. After a few minutes the sheriff told him to cut it out, Stiles did. Within a few minutes he was doing it again. The sheriff rolled his eyes but let it slide, Stiles had to be worried. Stiles was worried, he'd eaten too much for breakfast, he'd been forced to by his father. Stiles could feel the two slices of toast fall slowly into his stomach and sit there. He could almost feel them rotting out his insides. He couldn't concentrate, every step seemed too much, too difficult.

"Stiles, you okay?"

"What? Yeah, I'm good, dad" The sheriff stared at Stiles for a few seconds before nodding and getting out the car. He then walked to the other side and helped Stiles out of the car as well.

The hospital appointment took up most of the morning. They weighed Stiles, took blood, poked and prodded him until he was about to yell at them. Then he would be passed onto a new doctor to do similar things. What it all came down to was that he was underweight but it was not life threatening. The doctors had hoped that the paralysis was merely inflammation along the bake caused by the broken bone but it wasn't. The swelling had gone down and there was still no sign of Stiles recovering. Whilst there was a chance he would regain all function it was dwindling per day. The doctors also said that neither of them should keep their hopes up and shoved pamphlets at them as they left. Stiles could feel the sadness in the doctor's eyes, he bristled at the thought. He hated being pitied. When they got home it was about half one in the afternoon and the sheriff took one glance at the clock and said Stiles could stay home for the rest of the day.

They both settled down to watch a movie, Stiles argued for a series but was overruled. Stiles didn't pay attention to the plot, it was some lovey dovey ridiculous stuff that he hated. His dad cooked up popcorn and placed it on the table, grabbing a handful for himself. The sheriff ended up eating almost all of the popcorn in the first half hour but Stiles ate a few pieces, the sticky feeling was worth it when he saw the sheriffs eyes light up. After that Stiles relaxed and took a bit more interest in the movie. By halfway through he had a vague idea and was making loud comments about how he thought it would end. Soon after the sheriff started throwing the popcorn that had spilt on him. Stiles kept yelling, dodging the popcorn as well as he could and returning a lot of it. His dad's phone rang in the middle of a passionate on screen kiss (which Stiles was making weird retching noises throughout). Suddenly the laughter died in the room as the sheriff paused the film and moved into the kitchen. Stiles stared at the screen which showed the lovers locked by the lips. He heard his father swear from the other room and swivelled the chair round to see him. The sheriff was leaning against the counter, head against the cupboard.

"You sure? Yeah, uh huh. Okay. Yeah I'll be in."

"What's going on dad?"

"One of my officers have been found in the woods torn apart. They're thinking some kind of animal did it. I need to go in, will you be alright?"

"You know me dad"

"Um, order something in for dinner, leave some for me. Unless you want to make pasta"

"You remember what happened last time dad, you really wanna risk it?" the sheriff smiled at the memory. He had been cooking spaghetti with his son watching. Stiles had asked how he was meant to cook it and the sheriff had said that he had to grab a handful and put it into the boiling water. Stiles had nodded slowly in understanding, the moment the sheriff's back was turned Stiles dunked the spaghetti, clutched tightly in his hand into the boiling water. After that no one had eaten pasta for months. The sheriff was still smiling as he walked out of the door, promising not to pull another all-nighter. He paused in deliberation and then pulled out his phone

_To: Scott_

_I am needed at work. Can you check on Stiles subtly?_

_From: the guy who should know better than to let his son borrow his phone _

Scott grinned at the signature as he received the text.

_To: Stiles' dad_

_No problem_

_He's coming over in 2 hours anyway_

_From: the annoying fur ball with red eyes_

The sheriff regained his smile and walked off. In the house it was silent, too silent. Stiles could feel the silence creeping in to strangle him. He shook his head roughly to shoo it away but to no avail. He breathed deeply for a few seconds and then wheeled over to his school bag to get out his homework, anything to get his mind off how fat, useless and terrible he actually was. As he pulled out the homework a wad of paper fell out as well. He frowned and bent down to pick them up. Most were internet sites that he'd never heard of, some were web addresses he'd heard of; Facebook, Tumblr etc., some were phone numbers and some was research. There were pages and pages of information. He scanned through a couple picking up words he'd never heard before. There were diagrams of people, ribs sticking out in hospital beds. There were stories of how someone had realised to late their friend was suffering from anorexia. There were pictures of the back teeth of bulimics, worn down by years of acid.

Stiles flipped through them faster and faster and when he reached the end he grabbed his laptop to find the websites. They were self-help, ways to love yourself, ways to work out what you want. Stiles pushed the laptop away wondering. Who had put this in his bag? Why did they? He sat there for a moment until the doorbell rang and he then hurriedly stuffed the pages back into his bag, accidently leaving the laptop open. He breathed in calmly as the bell went again and then wheeled over to the door. Scott was standing there, mobile in his hand texting away like mad.

"Hey Stiles, I was wondering if we could have the meeting here?"

"The meeting?" Stiles was confused, the papers had thrown him off and now he had no idea what was going on.

"About finding Derek, are you okay Stiles?"

"Oh that, yeah sure, come in" Scott smiled as he walked into the house. They sat in the sitting room just chatting about, something. Stiles was completely involved but he couldn't for the life of him remember what he was talking about. His eyes kept straying to his bag with the paper inside. Who would have done it? Who had the opportunity?

By the time the rest of the group came over Stiles was more than happy to fade into the background. He ordered in a pizza like his dad had suggested and the rest of the group joined in with their own orders. Stiles didn't pay much attention as they planned out the rescue mission. He wasn't needed anyway; what could a cripple give that two werewolves, a were coyote, a banshee and a kitsune couldn't? He ate a bit of the food but pushed it away after a slice of pizza. Scott shot him a worried look, wasn't he always?

"You gonna eat that?" Isaac whispered. The room quietened. Stiles shook his head. Isaac shrugged and grabbed the slice before anyone else could. "'S good pizza" Isaac said as he wolfed it down whole. By the end of the meeting Stiles was exhausted, a day of worrying and thinking had tired him out. When he went to bed he brushed his teeth like normal, it was only when he was already half asleep that he realised the pizza and popcorn was still in him, he was about to get up when he decided against it. Let them stay for just a bit longer, the bed was too warm to do anything else.

When the sheriff got home Scott was passed out on the couch and the rest of them had all gone home, he poked his head around his son's door to see him fast asleep. The sheriff knew he should wake the two of them, warn them about the officer but he couldn't bring himself to disturb their slumbers.

* * *

I felt Stiles needed a bit of a break so voila! And yeah this is a break not recovery, that will take an awful lot longer. Next chapter the hunt for Derek begins! Also, just as a side note the spaghetti thing? Yeah that's possible. It is one of the many humorous stories about my family cooking. My eldest sister did that once and it almost rivals the time I burnt a salad...

Thank you, everyone for reviwing and following (I have 25 followers as of writing this :). That's more than in my class. I'm not even sure if my entire class knows about the existance of fanfiction.) I shall try to update soon as my holidays are running out :'(. Anyway, until next time


	7. Chapter 7

That weekend the plan was put into action. From what Lydia could understand Derek was trapped in the catacombs beneath Paris. Apparently there were miles and miles of tunnels hidden from sight. Some had been explored and were visited regularly by the public however most were still hidden. Scott and Kira had talked to their parents and were being allowed time off school with the excuse of illness. Malia was just not going to show up. She hadn't gotten around to telling Scott that though. Lydia didn't tell the others what excuse she used or how she got the money for all of their tickets.

Stiles was left at home, being regularly updated with what was happening. The sheriff had been called to the station a lot and Stiles was taking advantage of it. Without the watchful eye of his dad or an alpha he was simply binning the food his father prepared. He felt guilty but it felt good to be empty. Isaac had been left at Beacon Hills in case anything happened. While the plan was told no one mentioned what Isaac would be checking up on but Stiles felt he had a pretty good idea.

The group armed themselves with almost nothing. Kira brought her sword but apart from that they were unarmed. If you ignore the two pairs of fangs and claws. Kira was trying her very best not to forget them. She had never liked airplanes and normally knowing it was a one way flight would have exited her. Now the very notion that she might not be flying back to Beacon Hills filled her with dread. Throughout the take-off she gripped the seats with an iron grip which she didn't relinquish until Scott climbed over her to stand up.

"What are you going?" she hissed, her face pale. He looked curiously at her

"Uh, going to the toilet" Kira nodded and stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the fear in her stomach.

"Are you okay?" Lydia leaned over the aisle to Kira

"Yeah, I just hate aeroplanes" Kira snapped her head to the front as an announcement began

_Can all passenger please return to their seats. We are going to be experiencing some turbulence._

Kira groaned and closed her eyes, wishing it was over.

At Beacon Hills Stiles was bored. There was only so much daytime telly he could watch. He felt the hunger growing inside him and smiled. He was back in control. But even as he welcomed the feeling he knew it wouldn't last. Very soon his control would be taken away yet again. He tried to force that thought out of his mind and instead picked up the wad of papers. He couldn't figure out who would have given them to him. From their nature it had to be someone close to him. But this stuff wasn't the stuff you accidently stumbled on. This stuff was gruesome in its nature and so searching for this amount would have been near impossible for emotional reasons alone. So that suggested that whoever had given him them had to be emotionally strong. Or they hadn't been emotionally prepared but they had seen it before. Scott didn't know anyone else with an eating disorder. Lydia might but she'd never brought it up. Stiles was broken from his thoughts as he heard a knock on the door.

He wheeled over to the door and opened it up to see Isaac leaning on the frame.

"Hey Stiles, heard anything yet?"

"They're still in the air. What do you want?" Isaac shrugged and walked into the house.

"Can't I come and visit my favourite human sometimes?"

"I need to do homework"

"And that's why you've been watching TV for the past three hours?"

"You were watching me?" Isaac shrugged while opening the fridge and grabbing an apple

"Scott asked me to" he managed around the apple "Want one?" Stiles shook his head "Suit yourself" Isaac shrugged and stuffed one in his pocket

"Is there a reason you're here apart from taking my food?"

"Oh yeah" Isaac turned to face Stiles "Do you have any sugar?"

When the plane landed Scott called Stiles to tell him what was going on. Scott could hear something in the background banging away which sounded suspiciously like a werewolf getting annoyed. Stiles hung up midway through a shout of

"Isaac! Don-" Scott smiled before telling the rest of the group Stiles was fine. As the flight had left at 7 AM it was past 9PM and whilst the last thing the group wanted to do was sleep they had to. They had a hotel booked in advance which was nearby. As they trooped down the road Scott kept his head down, smelling around for Derek. He could smell death, a coldness that he strongly disliked.

"You get anything?" Lydia asked as she fell into step. Scott shook his head

"Just the catacombs. Are you sure he's down there?" Lydia just nodded and Scott took her word for it. When they got to the hotel Scott and Kira took one of the rooms while Malia and Lydia took the other. They stayed up for a few hours going over where to enter the catacombs and then they drifted off to their own beds.

Isaac lacked backing skills, Stiles reflected. The cake had taken about two hours just to mix and get ready to put in the oven. Every few minutes Isaac was opening the door to check on it until Stiles hit the top of his hand.

"It won't cook properly if you do that"

"Then what are we meant to do?"

"I dunno, go home and stop bugging me?" Stiles was fairly annoyed at that point. The cake smelt so good and while Stiles was thinking about how bad it was his stomach was saying how good it would taste.

"Whoa, chill I was just saying" Stiles glared at him before wheeling away down the hall to his room. He grabbed his bag and took out the math homework. He seemed to be doing a lot of homework recently. At least his grades would be good for once.

By the time the cake was ready Stiles had calmed down towards Isaac and had transferred the anger towards Algebra, always something which was actually worth his anger. Isaac was still sat in the kitchen but he had managed to get his hands on a book which he was reading whilst sitting on top of the counter.

The cake sat next to Isaac and it smelt heavenly. It was cut into pieces, and one had seemingly vanished. Stiles glanced at it as he walked in. His stomach grumbled at its own emptiness. Isaac looked up and smiled at him.

"Do you want some? It's really good"

"You should um, leave it to cool" Stiles was finding it difficult to concentrate. He shook his head, mentally telling himself off. He had gotten weak. A cake shouldn't make him eat! Even if the cake in question looked so good…

"Here" Isaac said as he dumped a piece into Stiles' lap. Stiles jerked back and put it onto the plate

"I don't want it" Isaac dog eared one of the pages and leapt from the counter, brushing crumbs off his T shirt.

"You know that would be a perfect lie but you forgot something Stiles." Stiles glared at him as Isaac smiled

"What did I forget?"

"I'm still a werewolf" As Isaac said this his eyes glowed blue "And I know when you're lying"

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned his chair around to leave the room

"You're messed up Stiles" Stiles turned at those words to face Isaac. Although he knew it those words felt wrong.

"Piss off Isaac" At this Isaac growled and twisted the wheelchair around as if it was empty

"You are going to sit here and you are going to eat. I can smell the hunger on you Stiles. I reckon you haven't eaten since someone forced you to." Stiles drew his hand into a fist and punched Isaac right in the jaw. Stiles immediately started cursing while Isaac glared at him.

"I will stay here until you eat Stiles, until you have eaten enough so I can't hear your stomach from hallway across Beacon Hills."

"What do you care?"

"I care cause I'm your friend" Stiles scoffed, a friend wouldn't force him to eat. A friend wouldn't make him get fatter. A friend would see that he had to eat less. "Fine, if you don't believe that, I was Scott's beta and now I need a place in his pack again. Seeing as you're his best friend letting you die on my watch wouldn't get me in his good books."

"I'm not going to eat that" Stiles gestured to the cake on the table

"Fine, get something out of the fridge with the same number of calories. There's some biscuits, more cake, crisps and that's just the cupboards. You're a clever kid, you figure something out." Stiles strode over to the cupboard and his mind quickly ran through what was in there. The cake would be about 300 calories give or take so if he took something with 200 he could pass it off. But what? He could feel Isaac's glare at his back and Stiles breathed deeply. His heart was beginning to speed up, thinking of the number of calories. Suddenly he couldn't catch his breath and he began shaking. In that moment he wasn't there, instead he was how he used to be, fat and useless. He couldn't, he just couldn't do that again.

That night Lydia couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she felt cold water drip down onto her, musty air swirled around her and she heard whispers that belonged to nothing. When she finally drifted off all she dreamt.

The water fell from the ceiling slowly, dripping onto her hair but she ignored it. Under her hands she felt a hard surface but couldn't see what it was. Everything was dark and the faster she moved the more she slipped. The floor beneath her grew wet with the constant dripping. She felt something grab the bottom of her legs and she twisted around, squinting through the darkness. More and more things tried to grab her. She let out a shriek but no sound came out. A light flickered into existence and she saw bony hand clutching at her legs, pulling her. She screamed again, trying to twist away but the pale ground was moving beneath her. Sections of it moved, twisting upwards until she saw the gaps where their eyes should be, holes where their noses had once lived. And each one of the ebony coloured skulls was awash in crimson which continued to drip slowly from the ceiling.

She was still screaming as she jerked into consciousness. Malia was standing over her, looking freaked.

"What the hell was that?"

"I – I don-. I don't know" Malia looked at her for a moment, distrust covering her face.

"Get up Scott and Kira have gone to get breakfast." Lydia nodded as Malia moved away. Lydia ran a hand through her hair, shuddering. She wondered if it had been a dream or a premonition. Whichever it had been she was feeling a lot worse about going into the catacombs than she had the night before.

They entered the catacombs by the tourist entrance. As the guide took them through a number of tunnels the group slid into the shadows and ran silently away. They were all slightly wolfed out, using their eyes to navigate the morbid decorations on the walls. Scott ran ahead, testing the air for Derek while the other hung back, hands upon their weapons. Lydia was being guided through by a hand on her back and a weak flashlight which was all they could come up with. The walls of the tunnels were skulls, row upon row of human skulls leering down on the group. Lydia tried to ignore the pit opening in her stomach and carried on walking. Scott paused, sniffing the air and then walked to one of the skulls and tilted his head. He grasped it tightly and pulled. Lydia tensed, half expecting the ceiling to collapse on them but nothing happened. Scott placed his hand where the skull had been. After a few moments there was a rumbling and suddenly the skulls next to Lydia began to move. She shrieked and stepped backwards into Kira.

A section of the skulls moved forwards and then slid to the left. In their place was a long hallway, dimly lit by electric lights set in the ceiling. The walls were smooth, an off white colour and were broken at regular intervals by doors. Scott stepped into the corridor first, gesturing the others to follow him.

Malia stepped into the corridor, sniffing the air.

"I can't smell him" she turned to Scott

"He's this way" he strode down the corridor and the others followed. Scott paused in front of a door and nodded, this was the one. Kira slid her sword out of its sheath silently. Malia and Scott both allowed their claws and fangs to grow as they began to transform. Scott nodded and they burst into the room. The smell accosted Lydia and she felt bile rise in her throat. It was a cross between the worst public toilets ever and a slowly rotting corpse. In front of the group sat a row of cages, some were large enough to house a tiger while some were cat cages. In a cage that looked no bigger than a large dog cage was a figure. It was hunched over by the size of the cage. Along its back there were raised scars and bruises. Its hand were tied behind its back, handcuffed outside the cage. This left the person in a very uncomfortable position. Scott rushed to the cage and turned it to show that inside was no other than Derek Hale. His head lolled forwards and there were more scars across his chest and legs which were revealed to Scott. All Derek was wearing was a pair of black shorts.

Scott growled at the sight of the beta so hurt. He gestured to Kira who was standing a few feet behind him

"Cut him free" Kira nodded and swiped her blade down first on his handcuffs. Derek seemed to notice and turned to face them, his lip was broken and he was sporting a black eye. There was some faint recognition in his eyes as he looked at Scott

"We're getting you out Derek, don't worry" Derek stared at Scott as if he wasn't understanding what was being said. From behind them Scott heard Lydia's yelp of pain. He swung around and saw Kate Argent there, black fur covering her face.

"Sorry kiddo, I can't let you do that. Not now Derek and I have been getting along so well" She growled and more werewolves seemed to detach themselves from the shadows of the corridor. Soon the small party was outnumbered. Scott glanced around the group, weighing the odds. He let his claws slip back into his fingers

"There's a good kid. Now then" she addressed her wolves "Rip them apart"

* * *

Okay, reuploading it cause it went really weird. If this one doesn't work then please let me know as soon as possible


	8. Chapter 8

When Stiles had caught his breath and calmed down Isaac had stalked off. Stiles looked down at the cake he had refused and guilt welled up in his stomach. He could have just eaten it, surely a few hundred calories wasn't worth losing a friend? Then he remembered, Isaac wasn't his friend and the only way to get people to care for him was refusing food. He heard the front door slamming as Isaac left the house. Stiles slowly wheeled out of the room and collapsed on his bed. The rest of the group had only left twelve hours previously but it felt like a lot longer.

He breathed in deeply, trying to calm down. He heard a key turn in the lock about half an hour later.

"Stiles?"

"In here dad"

"You eaten yet?" Stiles nodded, too tired to attempt to eat anything. The sheriff frowned but walked into the kitchen to find most of a vanilla cake, missing two slices. The sheriff frowned and took a bite. He hummed in appreciation, he wondered who had made it. Stiles wouldn't have had two pieces so…

His mind wandered as he walked round the kitchen getting the food he needed for dinner. He had managed to talk to Scott about the dead officer but Scott had simply said he'd deal with it later. It was a pity, the officer was a good guy and a brilliant detective. He headed up to bed after a night watching TV with a fairly obvious absence of Stiles. The sheriff glanced into Stiles' room and saw him curled up on the bed, fast asleep.

Stiles woke, somewhere in the night and found he was hungry. More than hungry, he was starving. He rocked back and forth on his bed, ignoring the pain building in his gut. Tears streaked down his face at the pain. After half an hour (which seemed like days) the pain stepped up a level and he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled himself towards the kitchen, not bothering with the wheelchair and threw open the cupboards. The cakes, biscuits and crisps which had looked so unappetising, now looked like manna from heaven. He wolfed down one of the cakes and all the way through his mind screamed at him to stop. But for so long his stomach had screeched while his mind ignored it, now it was payback. So Stiles looked on, horrified as he ate more and more. It didn't matter anymore what it was. He hardly waited to take the packaging off many items, just shoved it down and spat out the wrapper. After a few minutes he slowed, his stomach was now yelling that it was too much, to full. Something drove him on, not his mind nor his body as both seemed to cry out in pain.

When he stopped he just sat there in the middle of the floor. His mind slowly returned to his body and he realised what he had done. He hardly got to the toilet before he was throwing up everything that he'd eaten. The acidic taste mixed with the salty tears that streamed down his face. He lay there for some time, crying and vomiting the last of the food. When he eventually stopped he just crawled back to the kitchen and began to clean up. The tears wouldn't stop. He was only just realising how much he'd eaten. Wrappers were littered on the floor along with crumbs. He checked through the nearly empty cupboards and saw that everything was gone. All that remained in plain sight was the cake that Isaac had made for him. Stiles sunk to the floor as his tears fell harder. Small hiccupping noises escaped him and grew louder and louder until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Isaac stood above him, surveying the kitchen with cold eyes.

"Get to bed Stiles, I can clean up" Stiles nodded numbly but made no move to leave. Isaac sighed and scooped him up as if he weighed nothing. While Isaac had the advantage of being a werewolf he was fairly sure that even a human would have picked Stiles up at that moment. He was shaking slightly and there were food stains on his top where he had missed his mouth. All in all, Stiles was both mentally and physically exhausted. When he was laid in the bed he curled up, pulling his useless legs closer. Isaac went back to clearing the kitchen, deciding to give the boy space. He had heard the wrappers as he sat outside, watching Stiles. Scott had insisted that he had to. Isaac had been confused until he heard the vomiting a few moments later. He shook his head, focusd on clearing away the wrappers.

When the litter was cleared away Isaac sat with his phone in his hand, typing out a message to Scott

_Like you thought, Stiles isn't eating. He went on a serious binge tonight, emotionally wrecked._

_You need to get back, he's worse than I thought- Isaac_

Isaac paused, his finger hovering over the send button. It felt wrong, betraying Stiles like this. Isaac would hate for the group to know if he'd been like that. He sighed and deleted the message, pocketing the phone. If this happened again he'd tell the group but for now there was no need to intrude into Stiles' life. Isaac checked on Stiles and then slipped out the back door, as quietly as he'd come.

At Kate's words Scott leapt into action, his claws and fangs grew as he launched himself at Kate. He had counted eight werewolves, excluding Kate. If he could take her down they might have a chance. Halfway through his leap another wolf crashed into his side and sent him to the ground. Pandemonium ensued. Five of the wolves peeled off to attack Scott while the other three, including Kate cornered Malia, Kira and Lydia. Scott lost sight of the others as he gave his full attention to not dying.

Scott whirled around to get the measure of his opponents. Each of them had their fangs and claws out and every single eye glowed bright blue. The biggest leapt at Scott from behind and almost as if obeying a signal the others followed. Scott raked his claws down the largest on but was thrown to the ground yet again by the others. Claws and feet began to rain down on him. He reared up with a wild strike which caught on of them off-guard and gave Scott the chance to stand up. He was bleeding heavily from wounds along his side which he could feel begin to heal.

On the other side of the small room Malia had succeeded in throwing one of the wolves against the wall. It was now lying there, unmoving. She wasn't sure if it was alive or dead but at that moment she didn't care. Lydia had claw marks running down her neck where Kate had caught her. As it had only been a graze Lydia was trying her best to help fight but there was little she could do. Instead, Kira had thrown her a knife and she was trying to saw through the bars on the cage. Every time she looked up she saw Derek's gaze on her. When she had cut through the padlock thanks to the scarily sharp knife she opened the door and pulled Derek up. He didn't stand, couldn't stand and just continued to look at her.

"Do something! Fight back!" She exclaimed. Derek turned his head and leapt at Kat Argent. He scrabbled for purchase on her back as ripped his claws down her back. Her scream echoed and the fighting stopped for a second as her pack froze.

Scott took this opening to swipe one of the betas out of the way. He was throwin against the wall and was instantly out cold. The remaining four snapped their heads to him and attacked with renewed vigor. Scott felt pain blossom in his throat as claws dug into his neck. He fell to the ground, watching as blood gathered below him. Lydia turned in the battle, not knowing where to look. Her eyes fell on Scott as blood began to gush from his neck. Her world began to slow, everything stretched away until that image filled her consciousness. Everything was still, the battle raged on slowly, so slowly she didn't notice it. Everything continued to slow until finally it stopped, as a drop of Scott's blood hit the floor. Lydia opened her mouth and screamed. The world sped up again, until everything was at the normal speed. Kate's wolves had their hands clasped over their ears as did Derek. In the opening Lydia made a bolt for the door, the others close on her heels.

Malia grabbed Scott as they passed. Derek limped along behind them, slower, too slow. They rounded the corner into the corridor and stopped dead. A man stood in front of them, holding a crossbow. He took careful aim and an arrows flew over Scott's head to embed itself in the first werewolf who rounded the corner.

"RUN!" Chris Argent shouted and the group obeyed, Chris brought up the rear, putting arrows into every werewolf that pursued them. It was only when they had reached the surface that they allowed themselves to breathe again

"She won't follow us up here" Chris said, leaning against a wall clutching his side.

"How did you know where we were?" Lydia asked

"You weren't exactly subtle, screaming your head off." He took a look around and then added "We need to get somewhere more private, here" he threw his overcoat at Derek who shrugged it on, nodding his thanks.

"We can go back to our hotel" Kira suggested. Chris nodded and they began to walk, Malia was still half dragging Scott who was in no condition to walk. When they got to the hotel Scott was almost healed enough to start talking.

The others rushed around the room, stuffing their clothes into bags. Chris oversaw it all while tending to the injuries they had got. Derek stood in the corner of the room, watching silently. When the bags were packed the group, including Chris left the room and began walking hurriedly down the street until Chris gestured to a van.

"We are not stealing a van" Scott's voice was still harsh but it was getting stronger. Chris sighed and fished the keys out of his pocket. He climbed into the front seat and the others sat in the back seats. Derek sat at the end, shaking slightly.

"How did you find us?"

"I've been looking for my sister for a while"

"You knew she was alive?" Lydia's voice held an accusation in it. If he had known that, what else had he known?

"I thought she might be. I was hoping I'd be wrong. Then Scott sent me a text saying he knew where she was"

"Why didn't you respond to me?"

"I didn't want to tip anyone off about my presence"

"Not even us?"

"I had reason to believe that Kate was moving in on Beacon Hills."

"What reason?"

"There's been a spate of animal killings coinciding with human disappearances. I think she's turning people before properly training them control." Chris took a sharp left turn and the group found themselves thrown forwards.

"But how did you know we were going today?"

"Isaac helped me"

"Isaac?" Scott said, surprised

"Yeah, we met up when I was going to Beacon Hills. I helped him with a troublesome pack and asked him to keep me up to date. Didn't he tell you?"

"No, he seemed to forget to mention that" Scott growled

"Well anyway, the next flight leaves in half an hour. I suggest you be on it. Kate won't stop now"

"Aren't you coming back?" Kira piped up

"I need to work out what Kate is doing first. I'll let you know when I know more." The van stopped and Chris turned to speak "Scott, you're building a pack now. You need one"

"I'm not going to turn anyone!"

"Good, that would bring the hunters down on you. But you already have a pack" he gestured to the group sat in the back "And you need to take care of them" Scott nodded and then opened the doors. By his watch it was about one in the afternoon, they had twenty seven minutes to get onto a plane. He nodded to Chris and watched as the van sped away.

"Come on, we need to hurry" Kira said and they turned to dash to the airport. And for once, Kira preferred the idea of flying than what remained on and under the ground.

The group just made the plane in time, Lydia had luckily had the presence of mind to pre-book a seat for Derek. For the beginning of the flight he remained in his seat unmoving, staring ahead at nothingness. After three hours had passed he began to move slowly. His eyes began to lose the vacant stare and it was then that Scott decided to try talking to him

"How long were you kept in that place?"

"I.. I don't know. The last thing I remember is," Derek frowned, trying to concentrate "Ethan telling me he was leaving but apart from that-"

"Okay, we're on a plane right now back to Beacon Hills. We should be back at six, American time." Derek nodded

"Do you need anything at all?" Derek shook his head, eyes fixed on the seat in front of him "Okay, I am going to get some food for you and you are going to eat it okay?" Derek tore his gaze away from the seat to look into Scott's eyes.

"Okay" Scott sighed and stood up, Kira was sat behind Derek and Malia and Lydia were sat in front. Scott shook his head at Kira and she nodded. He then walked off to try and find some vaguely affordable food.

When Stiles woke up he did it slowly. His arms hurt and his eyes seemed almost fused together. He rubbed his eyes and took a look around his room. His wheelchair had toppled over somehow, his pyjamas were thrown to the floor from where they had been sat on the end of the bed. He was fully dressed in the same clothes he was wearing the previous day. He pushed himself up onto his elbow. While he got changed he tried to clear the confusion but by the time he was finished he was no wiser.

His first few attempts to grab the wheelchair ended up with him on the floor in a pile. Eventually he heaved himself into it and wheeled his way into the kitchen. On the table top sat a vanilla cake. Stiles frowned at it, he seemed to remember something about that…

His eyes were drawn to a bit of paper on the fridge

_You were asleep and I decided to leave you. I had to go to the station. Are you sure about no werewolves near here? I'll be back in time for supper- Dad_

Apparently, when a police officer is killed there is a lot of investigating to do. Stiles yawned, he was exhausted. He didn't know why, he had fallen asleep quickly last night and it was past noon. But there had been a dream halfway through, maybe a nightmare. Stiles scrunched up his face trying to remember it. It had something to do with Isaac…

The doorbell rang Stiles out of his stupor. Melissa McCall was stood outside with a lasagne tray.

"Hi, do you know where your dad is?" Stiles shook his head

"I think he's up at the station"

"Okay, um, that might cause a problem." She glanced around, chewing her bottom lip as she did so.

"What's going on?"

"He said that there wasn't any food in the house. I was using up leftovers and so I brought this over for him. It was probably a stupid idea" she chuckled before turning to go "Don't worry about it"

"Hey wait," Melissa turned to face Stiles "I can put it in the refrigerator until he's home."

"You know, that would be an excellent idea, thanks Stiles." She smiled and placed the tray in his lap. She glanced at her watch "I really would stay but I'm nearly late as it is so…" Stiles nodded and she turned to leave. He manoeuvred his way back into the kitchen, unused to the new weight of the lasagne. He hummed a half forgotten tune as he neared the fridge. Placing the lasagne into it he paused and in one dreadful moment remembered what he had done the previous night.

He remembered being so out of control, useless and so fat. The memories evoked such a reaction that he began to shake, his entire body shivering at the thought of eating that much food. He cast around, hoping it had been a dream but there was one of the wrappers. Stiles felt revulsion rear in his stomach at the thought of food, so much food, weighing him down. Pulling him, dragging him down to the depths of his mind. He couldn't, he couldn't he couldn't! Because he knew what would happen if he lost control again. He remembered the dark tendrils weaving their way through his mind. Stiles shouting and screaming, fighting with all his might. It hadn't made any difference then and suddenly Stiles could hear it. The Nogitsune was whispering its poisonous thoughts into Stiles ear. No, no no NO. Control. He had that. He had to have control. But still he could feel the blood trickling down his hands, friends slain.

Stiles breathing picked up pace, as he saw the bodies of Scott, his dad, Melissa. Images came faster and faster; Lydia with a sword driven through her head, Malia with an arrow wound to the gut, dying slowly and Derek clutching at air that escaped him as wolfs bane flooded his system. Later Stiles couldn't say what happened next. He was in a frenzy, he believed with every fibre of his being that as soon as his control broke the images, his ever over active imagination fed him, would come true. Suddenly he felt a hand hit him hard on the side of the head. The images were pushed from his mind and were replaced with the real world.

The real world was no better. Blood, blood covered so much. The cloying smell was almost overpowering. The source of the blood was located in Stiles' right leg. A four inch kitchen knife was embedded up to the hilt. Isaac was standing over him, a look of horror and shock mixed into one. His face changed to one of revulsion as Stiles' vision went black.

Isaac stooped down next to his friend. There was blood, but most of it were small cuts on Stiles' arm where he had driven his nails through the skin. There was a very small amount around the knife handle which Isaac did not take as a good sign. If it had been bleeding openly he could staunch the flow of blood. Isaac cast around, unsure of what to do. Scott could be gone for days more, the sheriff was at work as was Scott's mother. Isaac sighed and grabbed his mobile from Stiles' pocket.

_Which emergency service do you need?_

"I need the hospital" Isaac took a few deep breaths to sooth himself before continuing "My friend tried to kill himself."

* * *

This is a long one, for me anyway. Turns out this is a good distraction when I get stressed. I am going to be going into school in a few hours to pick up my GCSE results so, wish me luck


	9. Chapter 9

When Scott finally got back to his house he just wanted to sleep. It was six thirty but his internal clock was messed up, not sure what time zone they were actually in. Derek had been dropped off at his apartment with Malia watching over him. If anything went wrong then she would tell the others. In front of the house sat Isaac. He was tearing apart a pile of leaves in his hands, staring off into nothing. When he heard Scott arrive he was up in an instant.

"We need to go"

"What? What's going on?" Isaac growled in frustration

"Stiles has been admitted to the hospital. I'm not allowed in yet."

"Why didn't you call me or text me?"

"Better you hear it when you could actually do a damn thing to help than worry." Scott nodded before turning to walk down the path.

"There is a faster way to go you know" Scott glanced back and nodded, concentrating for a second. Fangs began to grow and his eyes glowed red. Isaac's responded to the Alpha's, turning blue. Without a second though they began to run. Moving silently through the forest it took them just a few minutes to get to the hospital. When they were a safe distance Scott shifted back. Isaac paused, driving his clawed hand into his own arm. Scott took a step back as Isaac's blue eyes faded.

"What was that?"

"My anchor" with that Isaac strode off into the light of the hospital.

"What happened to Stiles?"

"The day you left he didn't eat, I made him food and tried to force him to. Not my best idea, I admit. He freaked out and so I left. Later that night I found him. He had been," Isaac looked away, searching for a word. It had actually scared the teen, watching Stiles eat like that. He hadn't smelt like Stiles, he had smelt of pain, anger and hunger. "I think the word is a binge. He ate everything he found. He then threw it all up"

"He's done that for ages"

"No, he's been throwing up for ages. I don't think he ever did this before. I put him into bed and the next morning I smelt blood on him and found him with a kitchen knife impaled in his leg and so I got him to the hospital"

"What do you think caused it?" Isaac stopped dead, glaring at Scott

"It doesn't matter what caused it Scott, you can't brush this off anymore"

"I'm not doing anything like that!"

"Did you really have to go to Paris with the others? Have you actually had a proper conversation with Stiles since this started?" Scott started to talk but was cut off "I mean about this. Not just about any old nonsense. He's hurt Scott. I don't know what hurt him and for now I don't need to. For now we manage the condition, we make sure he doesn't end up in the hospital again. And then we help him, got it?"

"Isaac, calm down"

"No Scott, you don't get to tell me to calm down! I was trying to get myself back together and when I get back your friends are falling apart" Scott stepped back, surprised at the anger in Isaac's voice. "This is my home Scott. Derek was my alpha, he turned me. You and Stiles helped me all the way along. I expected you to be able to look after my home" Isaac turned away. Scott slowly approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder

"Isaac," the boy turned and all emotion dropped from his face as he shook off Scott's hand.

"Stiles needs us" With that he turned to the hospital and jogged the last few hundred metres. Scott stood there for a second before walking into the brightly lit hospital.

Malia sat in Derek's apartment, flicking through channels. Next to her sat the apartment's owner, sat staring at nothing. She glanced at him and then sighed.

"Are you going to change into something different or not?" Derek looked up, surprised to see someone else in the apartment. He nodded and walked off. A few minutes later Malia heard the shower switch on. Luckily she wouldn't have to help there. She watched the television with thinly veiled disgust, she still didn't find most of the joked funny. Topical jokes were beyond her, why bother trying to catch up with the entire world? When Derek emerged from the shower, topless, she looked over. He was wearing a pair of jeans which were secured by a belt. He had lost a lot of his muscles but what drew her attention were the scars. They were all over his back, the triskelion was marred by silvery scars crisscrossing it.

"It's rude to stare you know"

"How did you get scars? You're a werewolf"

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious" Obviously the shower had done him a lot of good "They put wolfs bane in it. It's not enough to kill me but my body's healing process has been slowed down."

"Are they going to heal?"

"I have no idea" he pulled a shirt over his head before staring around the apartment "Has anyone even been in here since I was taken?"

"Don't think so…" Derek sighed and made his way over to the fridge. Malia could smell the putrid smell of mould before he even opened the door. "I'm just going to leave that. I'm heading to bed, you should get home"

"Oh, I'm staying" Derek paused halfway across the room and inclined his head slightly

"What?" Malia shrugged

"Someone needed to look after you, everyone else was busy" Derek sighed before walking down the corridor. When he entered the room he collapsed onto the bed. His body ached, he couldn't even remember the last time he had stretched his legs, before the last twenty four hours. It was surprising he could even stand up, let alone fight his way out. As he lay down on the bed he ignored the urge to curl up, he was a Hale and he would not show weakness. And if he woke midway through the night, in a sweaty tangle then who would ever know?

As Monday rolled around no one felt ready to go to school. They all had excuses to use if needs be but only Malia and Scott decided to use them. Scott refused to leave Stiles' side which really began to grate on Stiles' nerves. Malia decided that she didn't want to go in and so spent the day 'looking after' Derek. And so Lydia, Kira and Isaac were the first ones of the group who heard the rumour mill. Isaac's presence had become common knowledge, nothing new to talk about. However the rumour of Stiles' hospitalisation spread through the hospital like wildfire.

By lunch rumours were flying about Stiles' health. No story was the truth but many were hitting quite close. Lydia and Kira were sat at their usual table as Isaac sauntered over. Lydia glanced around before talking to him, quietly.

"How is Stiles?" Isaac shrugged, picking up a sandwich and opening it. He wrinkled his nose at the contents.

"He woke up last night but" he gestured to himself while taking a bite of the sandwich "Not family" Lydia rolled her eyes as he spoke around a mouthful

"Is the sheriff with him? Don't say anything just nod" Isaac nodded before taking another large bite of the sandwich

"He tried to get Scott in as well, didn't go too well." Lydia glared at him as he smirked, mouth still full.

"Do you know the prognosis?"

"Nah, but it's not as if he can damage anything in his legs is it?" At that Kira stood up abruptly and left the room. Eyes turned to watch her and the room fell silent. "Did I say something?" Isaac said. Lydia rolled her eyes in response.

"She's been doing this for a few days now"

"Doing what?" the rest of Isaac's lunch lay on the table, discarded

"Acting weird, she looks like she's done something terrible and is trying to cover it up." Lydia shrugged "Every time I start to talk to her about it she walks off"

"Interesting" Isaac said, picking up the rest of his lunch and stuffing it in his bag "I'm gonna see if I can't get something out of our resident ice queen" He grabbed his bag and walked from the room, ignoring the stares that followed him. The moment the door slammed hut Lydia felt the eyes turn on her. She shook her head and pulled out her mirror and lipstick.

Isaac caught up to Kira as she entered the library. He grabbed a seat opposite her and ignored her glare.

"What do you want Isaac?"

"Can't I just sit by one of my friends anymore?" Kira looked down, guiltily "What's wrong Kira?"

"It's nothing, okay!" Her voice rose as the sentence reached its end and Isaac raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing?"

"It's personal, I can't. Later okay? But not now and not here" Isaac sat back and looked at her. She squirmed slightly under his gaze until he nodded

"Sure but I will want to know" She smiled and nodded, dropping her gaze to the book in front of her "Now, do you have any idea what the homework was for English?"

Scott had sat in the waiting room since the previous night, moving only to the bathroom. Thoughts flew through his head. Could he have prevented this? Would this happen again? What could he do? He let his head sink into his hands as he thought. Stiles had woken the previous night, the wound hadn't been that bad. The knife had kept the bleeding in and so the hospital had only had to run a few tests to see if there was internal bleeding. It could have been a lot worse, it should have been a lot worse. Scott couldn't figure it out. The last time Stiles had tried to take his life it had been planned down to the last detail. He had known how long it would take to find the body, he had investigated how long it would take him to die. If it hadn't been for Lydia then he would have died.

But this time felt different, the stab had missed the femoral artery by a long way. He'd known that Isaac was nearby, it just didn't add up. A hand on Scott's shoulder shook him from his reverie. He looked up to see the sheriff. He'd sat by Stiles' bed since he got the call. There were bags under his eyes and he seemed to have aged. He gestured to Scott towards another room, a private room. There he sat down on one of the chairs and ran one hand down his face.

"How is he?"

"Nothing too permanent. At the moment they're trying to figure out if they should keep him here or not"

"Why wouldn't they?"

"They don't think he tried to kill himself Scott, he has no recollection of it and when he was asleep he was having nightmares. I haven't seen him have nightmares that bad since after his mom died."

"Can I see him?"

"No. I told the doctors it's family only" Scott did a double take

"But, why?"

"Scott, my kid is in there for the second time this month after you promised me you'd take care of him!"

"I wasn't even in the country, I wa-"

"That's the point Scott!" The sheriff shouted "That's the point" the anger drained out of him as suddenly as it had come and he slumped back in his chair. "This isn't a monster attacking my boy. This is his mind. If it was some sort of monster then, I don't know." The sheriff sighed deeply again

"I want to be there for him, I want to protect him"

"But you're not. I can't understand him like you can. He can lie to me and I won't notice, Lord knows he's had enough practice. But for you, he even tries to lie and you can know the truth. You know when he panics, you know when he's hurt. You're his best friend Scott and he needs you right now. I don't want to put you in this position but I'm desperate."

"What are you saying?"

"You have to choose Scott! You've juggled being a werewolf and a human for too long! And it cost lives, Allison, Aiden, all of those sacrifices. I get that Beacon Hills needs a protector but right now so does my son. Leave the werewolf stuff to Derek and your pack. Stiles needs you."

"You're telling me to choose?"

"Yes Scott, that is exactly what I'm saying!" the sheriff put his head back into his hands. "He's the only thing I have left Scott. I can't lose him but I can't protect him on my own. So either you help or I send him to be institutionalised." Scott sat there, mulling it over. In one night Stiles had fallen apart and if Isaac hadn't been there…

"I'll do it. I'll need to talk to the others but from now on I'll stick with Stiles no matter what" The sheriff's face relaxed finally and he smiled

"Thank you Scott" Scott smiled slightly, ignoring the pit of worry opening up in his stomach. This was for the best, Beacon Hills could look after itself.

* * *

I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed up to this point, one review can seriously make my day. I go back to school in the first week of september and I have realised that I have a mountain of work to do. So if an update is a bit slow just blame schoolwork. I am not going to abandon this story though. I promise you guys this now. Also, over 20 000 words in now! This is officially the longest fanfic I have ever written and the second longest story I have ever written. So thanks for the support and don't be afraid if I wrote something in a way you didn't understand it.


	10. Chapter 10

Stiles lay in bed, bored. His father and Scott had left half an hour previously and they hadn't come back. If he'd thought it was bad when he was sick before this whole thing happened it was so much worse now. Before he could at least walk around even if the doctors told him off about it. He sighed and looked down to his leg. It was weird being in hospital for something he couldn't feel. As far as he was concerned there was nothing wrong with him, it was everyone else who had the problem. But then again, the doctors knew best.

He wondered what had happened with Derek, Scott hadn't told him yet and mobiles weren't allowed. But then again, if the plan had gone wrong Scott would still be out there. There was no point him coming back just for Stiles' freak-out. He wondered what would happen to Derek if they didn't find him but quickly stopped, Derek might be a pain in the ass but he was still human, kind of.

Stiles turned his head sharply as Scott and his father walked in.

"Guys! So, what's going on?"

"You're going to be released today"

"How come?" the two swapped a glance before the sheriff spoke

"They don't think you did it on purpose. But when we get home things are going to change" Stiles felt his heart plummet. He subconsciously lifted a hand to his mouth and began to chew at the end of his thumb.

"What kind of changes?" he mumbled around the thumb.

"I'm going to move in with you for a while. I'll take your old bedroom" Stiles looked at Scott surprised, that wasn't what he had been expecting. He had thought more along the lines of forced feeding machines.

"Why?"

"He'll be there to keep an eye on you." Stiles dropped his hand in indignation but before he could say anything the sheriff began speaking again

"Don't say anything Stiles, this is not negotiable" Stiles frowned and continued biting his thumb "He won't destroy your privacy but he'll be there for when you need help. Also, from now on I'm imposing rules. Any time that Scott cannot eat dinner with you then you will get someone else and I will check with them." Stiles gaped as he felt his world begin to crumble. "If I see, hear or even think you are doing anything wrong" At any other time Stiles would have jumped in with a witty retort but he remained silent, chewing his finger "Then I will tell Scott and your privacy will be gone. If I think you would be better put into a specialist centre then that is what I will do. But Stiles what you need to know is that I'm not going to give up on you. No matter what you say to me or what you do, you're my son and that's all I care about"

In another time, in another place that would have wet Stiles' eyes but at that moment he felt only emptiness and sorrow; he was just beginning to realise how much his father would hurt when Stiles finally succeeded.

Derek groaned as he stretched, his muscles were still cramping up occasionally. That was one of the many downside of being locked in a cage for months. As he stretched he felt scabs along his back graze the material of his shirt and sensed moisture pooling around at least one of them. He groaned softly, an Alpha's claws and wolfs bane were not a good mix. Scratching his head he walked towards the kitchen. It was almost night outside, he had a somewhat vague recollection of lying down for a moment in the afternoon. Malia glanced over from where she was attempting to cook dinner.

"How long was I asleep for?" she shrugged

"About an hour or two. By the way, how crunchy do you like your omelettes?" he paused before getting up and striding over to her.

"Not very" he muttered as he took in the scene. Malia had obviously tried to cook, resulting in quite a spectacle. The omelette looked passable, slightly burnt in places but still edible. He sniffed, maybe he had been a bit quick to judge. Looking around the kitchen what really worried Derek was the distinct lack of eggshells. He flipped the omelette and saw a flash of white, investigating a bit further he saw the missing eggshell. With a sigh he turned off the heat and tipped the omelette in the bin

"Hey, what was that for!"

"Scott taught you control. Lydia taught you math. Stiles taught you manners but no one bothered to teach you cooking. Figures" he opened the fridge to reveal almost empty shelves, slightly damp, with a few groceries inside. He grabbed the eggs, some bacon and some of the vegetables.

"I see you went shopping at least" she ignored him, staring at what he was doing "Look, you crack the eggs and remove the shell"

"What's wrong with eating it?" he paused, sighing before continuing.

"Most people don't like it" He continued making the omelette, telling Malia what he was doing. When he was nearly done he told her to grab two plates and two forks. They sat on the sofa eating it in silence.

"So, you know how to cook"

"Of course I do"

"You just don't really seem the type" he turned to stare at her, scrunching his face up a bit in confusion.

"What did you think I lived off?" she shrugged and took another bite

"Stuff you killed in the woods or stuff your girlfriend cooked" he smirked at her

"First off, my last two girlfriends were raging psychopaths who each tried to kill me at least once. Secondly I prefer not to drag dead animals through the building, the other tenants don't appreciate at all."

When they were finished he got up and took the two plates, wincing as he stumbled over a stack of books. Pain flared across his back where the worst wounds were. He took a few deep breaths, before slowly opening his eyes and walking forwards. He would be glad when he could sleep. He hadn't done much else but he had a feeling that before the rescue he hadn't slept, possibly at all. As he sat back down on the sofa he was just about to tell Malia about heading directly to bed when a question popped into his head.

"Where's Scott? I haven't heard from him since I got back here" Malia sat up from where she'd been slouching and looked down at the floor.

"He had to look after Stiles"

"What's wrong with Stiles?" Malia shrugged, her expression hardening

"He's refusing to eat and he tried to kill himself"

"What?" Derek shouted, angry at her tone. Malia glared up at him before speaking

"He tried to kill himself and now everyone's really worked up over him"

"And what are you doing? Having a picnic?" He took a deep breath again, trying to stop the anger which had leapt from nowhere. He slowly took his seat again, ignoring the pain in his back

"I'm looking after you!"

"How long has this been going on for?" Malia shrugged again, defiance still glittering in her eyes

"Scott said he wasn't talking about it"

"When did he try to kill himself?"

"A while back, he jumped off a building. Lydia had picked something up. Scott and Lydia got there in time to get him to the hospital. The only lasting damage was his legs"

"His legs?"

"Yeah, he broke something a cord or something back there. Now he has to use a wheelchair" Derek sat back and dragged a hand down his face. Images popped up in his head, Stiles joking with certain death hanging over them, swinging a cricket bat at an Alpha, holding Derek up in the middle of a pool. It was difficult, almost impossible for Derek to reconcile these images with a Stiles who seemed to be suffering so badly. But he steeled himself and turned back to the girl.

"What happened after that?"

"He wouldn't talk to us about it. He just closed off completely. So I began to do the same" Derek barely contained his groan at this.

"Why?"

"You wouldn't understand" Derek resisted the urge to growl, teenagers were so infuriating sometimes…

"Then?"

"We thought he was getting better so we went to rescue you. Scott left Isaac to look after him. Today Lydia called me and said Stiles had tried to kill himself again two days ago and he was in hospital" Malia said all this with a calm and level voice, looking almost bored

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Derek spat "Your friend could have died and you talk about it like he's a piece of meat" with rage, and a fair amount of remorse, driving him he stormed from the room and grabbed the phone. With every number he punched in he was simply ramming home a fact, it was because of him Stiles was hurt. By the time Scott picked up Derek was angry, more angry then he had been in a very very long time

_Hello?_

"Scott, where's Stiles?"

_He's here with me, why? _A thousand thought flew through Derek's mind. Why hadn't Scott told him? Why hadn't Stiles said something? Why hadn't Derek himself worked it out?

"Malia just told me what happened to him" he growled

_I was going to tell you I ju-_

"You should have told me right away!"

_It wouldn't have helped anybody, you need to rest Derek_

"No, where are you?"

_I'm at Stiles' house_. Before Scott could say anything Derek grabbed his coat and walked back into the living room

"I'm going out, don't wait up" with that he turned on his heels and walked out the door, ignoring Malia yelling at him. He hurried along, trying not to wince at the people around him. Every shadow seemed to herald something different and all painful. When he eventually reached Stiles' house it was a relief. He debated for a second on the porch before walking to the end of the garden. He unsheathed his claws and climbed quickly up the side of the house coming to rest on the roof. There he sat, stretching his senses until he found Stiles. While he sat there the only thoughts going through his head were how he would fix Stiles and the only thing he heard was the human's steady heartbeat throughout the night.

* * *

Can I just point out, I am telling this story using what the characters are feeling to colour the tone of each chapter. So therefore, the bit at the beginning with Stiles is what he thinks. He is the one projecting this stuff. I also want to apologise for making every single person in this really unhappy, it wasn't entirely purposeful. Next chapter, we find out what's up with Isaac and Kira. It was going to be this chapter but this one was getting too long.


	11. Chapter 11

Okay, yet again I would like everyone reading this to take a step back. Are you in a bad mood? Are you recovering/ suffering from depression, self-harm or any eating disorder? Will reading this hurt your recovery? If this story is just going to make you feel worse then don't read it. Go and find a story which will help you. No story is worth feeling bad about yourself over. Sure, I don't know you and statistically we'll never meet. However you deserve happiness. So basically please do not read this if you can't cope with it.

When Kira let herself into her house the next day she crept upstairs, trying to not alert her parents to her presence. She sat down on her bed and rifled through her bag until she found the set text for English. She turned to throw her bag down and nearly screamed. There, sitting cross legged on the floor was Isaac.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm reading" he held up a book which she didn't recognise.

"I meant what are you doing in my bedroom?"

"Oh, that! Yeah, I got bored. Also I believe that you promised me a story."

"Not now!"

"If not now then when?"

"When this whole thing has settled down a bit!" he cocked his head to one side

"That's going to be too late though."

"What do you mean?"

"Whatever's going on has to do with Stiles' current issue. So if I waited then you'd say the time had passed and ignore me."

"Well maybe it's a good thing I wouldn't tell you then"

"I have an idea, a story for a story"

"What do you mean?" Rather than responding he allowed his eyes to glow blue

"I don't want to tell this story to make the rounds just yet. First I'd need to tell Scott. He's still technically my Alpha. So, I tell you my story and you tell me yours?" Kira looked down, into her hands. She should tell someone, but couldn't she just wait until tomorrow? Or, better yet, never?

"No, I'm sorry Isaac but not yet."

"Then let me guess," Kira looked up, breath catching in her throat. She couldn't let everyone know again, last time it had been so terrible. Everyone stared silently, at mealtimes they all held in their breath while she struggled to eat more.

"You had an eating disorder, it got worse and you got better at hiding it. By the time it was discovered it took a lot of work to get better. You were put into a hospital and you hated every second of it. Now you're slipping again looking at Stiles. You saw the warning signs but brushed them off. I bet you told Scott and he told you it was just how Stiles behaved."

"Why do you say that?"

"There are a lot of things I can say about Scott, paying attention isn't one of them. So, how close was I?" Kira nodded, her throat constricting. She wanted to keep quiet, keep it bottled up but then again, that was how she'd gotten into the mess.

"Like you said, um about hiding. But my parents didn't find out, I told them" she took a few breaths, refusing to look at him "My mum went and trained herself to look after me, my dad went down to a part time teacher. I wasn't put into a hospital, because that was the only condition I gave before I told them. It took me about a year before I was better. When I began to get more sociable after it was really hard. Everyone treated me as if I was going to break at any second. Soon after we moved to Beacon Hills because I couldn't stand it there any longer."

Isaac nodded and waited, the silence thickening in the room until she continued

"About Stiles, yeah I had guessed that something was up but I thought it was nothing. Scott knew him well so he'd have noticed anything strange right?"

"Do you know what question is very important now?" Kira shook her head, confused. She had hoped for a reaction, but then again Isaac had already guessed it all. "If Stiles didn't change then how long has he been like this?" He stood up and was in the doorway before Kira spoke

"What about you?" He turned slowly, fingers beating out a rhythm on the doorframe.

"I killed an innocent person" he sighed and turned to face Kira "To forget" he paused "her, I left. I couldn't stand being here. After all this time it's not much better. I lived however I wanted to. One week I'd live out in the woods, half transformed, the next week I'd get a room at a hotel and work. I had nothing to pin me down except Scott.

If I found another pack I'd steer clear. But one time I got into a tussle with a pair of hunters. They shot me with an arrow through the chest. It takes a while to recover from that even for us. All the while I was being chased. I found a pack and explained what was going on. They looked after me until I was healed and then I stayed for a bit. The hunters moved on and I thought about settling in the pack and never coming home. Then one day I was out in the woods and I heard a small girl crying. She was covered in bruises and scars made from a belt." Isaac opened his mouth as if to speak but merely ran his tongue over his teeth as he searched for words.

"I figured, I had the power to stop whoever had hurt her. I asked her and she said it was her uncle. He was looking after her and had snapped. She'd been in the woods for days. He was at her house, waiting for her. So naturally I took off."

"You killed him?" he nodded and cleared his throat before continuing

"But, it wasn't him. The hunters had set it up. They attacked me and I only just got away. When I got back to the den the Alpha fought me, she didn't want hunters coming to her pack. So I ran and they chased me. I was worse off than the first time I'd met the hunters, the Alpha had tried to kill me. I smelt someone familiar and found Argent. He had heard a werewolf was in the area and was trying to make sure it didn't kill again. He looked after me and told me who I had killed. He told the other hunters I was dead and talked to the pack. I left after a few days, I couldn't stand being around him after her. I got the text and came straight here"

"And the cuts you had were from the Alpha?" Isaac nodded before straightening and moving to leave

"Who was he? The man you killed"

"Would it help if I told you? Would it bring him back to life? Leave the dead where they are"

"Scott will ask" Isaac nodded, resigned

"It was the girl's father. The uncle was one of the hunters. He'd used her as live bait for me. A werewolf who's killed someone is fair play."

"Will you tell Scott?"

"Depends, will you?" with that Isaac left the room, as silently as he'd come in.

The next night Stiles found himself lying awake, long after Scott had fallen asleep. He felt too full. Stiles shakily felt around for his wheelchair and grasped it, pulling himself into it in a well-practised motion. He could feel his hands shaking ever so slightly. He wanted to go to the restroom but he couldn't. Scott would smell it on him and that wouldn't end up well. No matter how bad it got Stiles refused to be put back in Eiken House. He would rather be completely useless than that.

Stiles took a few deep calming breath. He ran his hands down his face and reached into his desk which had finally been moved down. At the bottom of the drawer sat a half dozen boxes of matches. He withdrew the seventh, identical except for its contents. As soon as he lifted it he knew something was wrong. Opening it all the way he saw that its metal contents were gone. He shoved it onto the floor and grabbed the others, rifling through them there was nothing but matches in them. He took a breath to calm himself, it probably wouldn't have worked anyway, Scott would have noticed.

But in that moment it didn't matter, the next day didn't matter. His father, Scott, Lydia everything ceased to matter. All he needed was the thin pieces of metal. He opened another drawer and took it out. Flipping it upside down he scattered pens and pencils over the floor. At the very bottom was a tiny piece of paper, he pulled it and the bottom of the drawer came away. Inside was nothing. The pills, the razors, the plasters, all of it was gone. He took a deep breath again, ignoring his heart speeding up. He didn't need it surely? He just wanted it. But he didn't have to be a werewolf to hear the lie.

He wheeled into the kitchen and grabbed one of the knives. He placed it across his forearm. Why should he care it was visible? He needed the release. That was all he needed. In that moment nothing mattered. Just as he began to press down he felt a hand land on his own, covering the handle of the knife. He glanced up, expecting Scot. The man was taller, his hair was shorter and in lieu of the glaring red eyes there was piercing blue eyes. Stiles jerked back as he recognised Derek. Derek's face was murderous. He took the knife and threw it, it sunk into the wall a few inches above the floor and hung there, immobile. Stiles took a deep breath as Derek turned his gaze to him. All the threats floated to the top of Stiles' mind and wouldn't budge.

"Where's Scott?" Stiles frowned for a moment, why would Derek want Scott? Then it hit him. All Derek cared about was showing off to Scott. Saving a friend would be perfect.

"Upstairs" Stiles muttered, already turning back to his room.

"You're staying here"

"What's the point?" Derek squinted at the teenager for a second before coming to a conclusion. He grabbed Stiles around the waist and hoisted him over his shoulders. Stiles hit Derek's back to no avail. He was set down gently on one of the chairs in the living room. He then turned and walked out of the room. Stiles opened his mouth to complain but then shut it, Derek was in control freak mode.

After a few minutes Derek walked back in with two cups. He placed one on the table in the middle and handed the other cup to Stiles.

"Drink" Stiles took a sip of the hot milk without thinking.

"Have you told Scott?"

"No and I'm not going to" Stiles glanced up, surprised

"Why not?" Derek sat back before answering, he looked as if he chose every word carefully.

"Because he doesn't need to know just yet."

"Okay, how come you got here so fast then?"

"I was on lookout tonight"

"Lookout?"

"If I'm honest, it's just me. Everyone else needed sleep so now I come up here"

"I thought you were still recovering" Derek shrugged, taking another long drink

"The last of the wolfs bane left last night so I'm better now"

"So why are you here?"

"I just told you Stiles"

"No, I mean why are you like, _here_?"

"I don't follow" He set the empty cup down on the tale again and crossed his eyes, fixing them on Stiles.

"If you wanted Scott to know then you'd have woken him up" Derek frowned in confusion "If you wanted anyone to know then they would have been here. Scott would never have allowed you to stay on watch while you were healing. What could be more important than you healing after Paris?" Derek sat back and closed his eyes as he understood.

"I'm here for you Stiles. That's what friends do, they help each other"

"But, we're not even friends. Every time we meet you threaten to kill me"

"Stiles, at this moment there is nothing more important than protecting you. No one else seems to notice that. I could list everything that they've failed to do or done wrong. For Christ's sake, they left you alone to save me"

"You needed help" Stiles muttered, too quiet to be heard, well unless someone was a hybrid animal mix.

"So did you." Stiles looked up from his cup to meet Derek's brown eyes. "One thing you seem to not realise Stiles is that we care for you. We want you to be happy. I'm not here to show off to Scott or anyone else. I am here for you. If you talk to your friends then things will get better, I promise you."

"How can you promise me that?"

"For years I didn't trusted anyone outside my pack. Now" Derek breathed a long sigh "It's better, having a pack, having people who'll help me." Stiles nodded "Just think about it"

"Sure" Derek smiled and left the room, emerging after a moment with Stiles' wheelchair.

"Here" he turned to leave

"Wait!" Derek turned "Could you maybe, I dunno, camp on the couch or something? It's cold out and hypothermia on top of everything else that's going on wouldn't be very good and"

"I'll stay, just stop babbling" Stiles nodded, half smiling

"So, wanna watch anything?" Derek rolled his eyes as he sat next to Stiles on the sofa. After an hour or two Stiles was fast asleep. Derek carefully placed a blanket over the teenager before leaving the house to resume his normal post. But as he sat in the cold air he felt hope, maybe with work and a lot of help they could actually help Stiles. And Derek realised that he couldn't imagine the alternative, Stiles Stilinski being lost to the world forever. Derek shook his head, he didn't need to think about that because he would **not** allow it to happen.


	12. Chapter 12

Malia walked down the halls and paused, Lydia and Kira were deep in discussion ahead. Malia glanced behind her, she could just turn and run.

"Malia!" Kira was waving at her, smiling. Malia dithered for a second and deciding, walking down towards the pair.

"Guys, I have a question" Malia glanced down at her feet whilst talking, slightly hunched as if unsure of what to say. Lydia looked up and began walking down the corridor, the other two in tow as the bell rang.

"This had better be important, I don't want to miss another Calculus"

"I thought you'd be flying through it" Kira said. Lydia rolled her eyes

"The guy who sits in front of me is cute and terrible at it" Kira smiled and they turned their attention back to Malia who was pacing the room, fiddling with her hands.

"What's the matter?" Malia looked up at Kira as she said this, trying to find the words.

"What's wrong with Stiles? Why isn't he eating? Did he break and why am I not meant to talk about it? What happened to him?" Malia continued pacing, casting glances to each of the girls. Kira opened her mouth slightly in understanding.

"You've never seen this before have you?" Malia shook her head

Kira and Lydia exchanged a glance. There ensued one very difficult conversation. Malia was trying her best to understand but nearly a decade of fighting for every scrap of food made her confused as to how anyone would turn down more. Kira stayed out of it for the most part, silently watching Lydia trying to help. Eventually, after what seemed like lifetimes, Malia began to understand. When she did she realised quite what she had said.

"I wanna help him. I need to help him. What do I do?"

"At the moment Scott's doing everything he can think of to help Stiles. Just, make up with him, he needs his friends right now" Malia nodded and strode towards the door, pausing

"Thank you, both of you" they smiled and she walked out.

"Do you reckon I can still get the last half hour of Calculus?"

"I guess" Lydia started to walk off, leaving Kira alone in the classroom. After a few minutes she followed them.

Every meal Scott sits down in front of Stiles with a plate of food. No matter where, Scott handles Stiles' food. Probably because the first day Stiles dropped his lunch pack into the bin, simultaneously hating himself for wasting food and rejoicing that he didn't have to eat it. So Scott sits in front of Stiles, watching him. Stiles tries everything, literally everything, to get out of it but nothing works. Every time he looks up he sees the brown eyes, half accusing, half hurt. Whenever Stiles sees it he glares back down at his food and attempts a few bites. If its lunch or breakfast in the week he can get away with half of it. For the first week he was late because he refused to eat it, when he realised it was futile he tried to eat. He really did. During the weekends and for dinner he has to eat it all. No matter what is put in front of him. Scott glowers and if he's at his job then Kira or Lydia or, god forbid, Derek is there.

None of them budge, everything has to be eaten. He's then sat down for an hour and a half with someone and then finally he's allowed to go to the toilet. When he's there he breaks down, cursing werewolf hearing and werewolves and life and everything. The sores on the back of his hand never really heal from where his teeth knocks against the tender skin. When his babysitter for the evening walks past they bow their heads or hurry past. Stiles knows it's pathetic, he's pathetic. He knows that no matter how much he vomits he'll never get rid of the fat that's ripping into his body. That doesn't stop him trying.

Most nights he cries, it's the only thing that's left to him. He checks the fat on his hips, his stomach. He sees how he grows larger and larger and he hates it. He lies awake for hours, trying to think of anything to do anything to get the fat off. He wants his bones back. He _NEEDS_ his bones back. There's an almost constant ache in the back of his mind, to replace the one that had been in his head. It urges him to do anything but he can't. His precious control is gone and with it his power. His human power, his weak frail human power which was taken so easily. He feels himself falling and try as he might the walls are too far off to slow his fall.

He can't do anything. His food is monitored, he's watched while sleeping, and he isn't even allowed to leave the house without a freaking werewolf following him. When he goes down the street he sees Scott move to stand next to the road, pushing Stiles further into the sidewalk away from the blindingly fast cars. At first this angers Stiles but after a while he just stops being angry. He doesn't care really. Why should he? He's worthless. So he lets Scott push him around (literally). He eats what's on the plate. He goes to school.

It's as if everything fades to grey, days become weeks and weeks become a month and a half before anything changes. One day Stiles is just lying in bed staring at the ceiling and it hits him; he doesn't want to live. It was more than it had ever been before. Back then he had wished and hoped and prayed that he would just get away but now, he had literally nothing to live for.

When Scott came in Stiles refused to say anything. He turned his head away from Scott, stubbornly facing the wall instead. When Scott lifts him easily Stiles does nothing, the sarcastic comments die on his tongue the moment before he spoke them. He speaks when he has to, teachers being arseholes, random people on the street, friendly not quite stranger. But it all seems to him as if he wasn't really there. It was as if all this time he had been Truman and he had finally taken the boat out. He looked into the world which was nothing more than a cardboard set, shivering every now and then. The pack and his dad force him to talk to Mrs Yukimura about everything that was happening. However, whilst they forced him to go they couldn't force him to speak.

His father moved through the motions he had to, caring for Stiles and when he couldn't retreating to a bottle of whisky. All the pack did it, murmuring quiet support before heading off one by one to fight whatever new creature wanted to kill them all. After a month even Scott began to leave, slipping away in the night and returning before morning. Stiles saw it all and commented on nothing. He went through his life silent, knowing that every day he could do nothing. The only member of the pack who didn't leave was Derek weirdly enough.

The first time Scott had left Stiles had quietly rolled down the hall to the restroom there. He then bent over the porcelain and tried to draw back the hated food. After he had finished spitting out the last drops of acid he turned to clear up his mouth. There in the doorway stood Derek, shaking slightly. His hair was sticking up in all directions as if he had just woken up and his eyes were filled with sadness and pity. Stiles hated that combination more than anything. He slammed the door shut, not caring if his dad heard. Stiles then scrubbed frantically at his hands _too much fat_, trying to get rid of the smell knowing it was impossible.

When he was done Derek was stood outside, unmoving.

"What do you want Derek?" Derek looked at Stiles and a strange expression played over his face, too quickly for Stiles to recognise it.

"I want you to be happy"

"You didn't care before" before Stiles could think a hand shot out and grasped his _too big_ wrist. Stiles looked at it for a moment, noting dully how the skin curved away from Derek's touch. Only then did he turn his face to gaze directly into Derek's eyes. They paused for a second before Derek seemed to realise what he was doing. He took his hand back quickly. _As if he knew what poison you were_ Stiles' mind supplied.

"You need to get back to sleep" Stiles snorted and rolled down the hall, ignoring Derek's gaze and the way it made every hair on the nape of his neck stand on end. The next morning Stiles remained silent once more, Scott could tease only a few words out of him at any time. Derek cornered Scott just after the sheriff had left but it didn't stop Scott from slipping away a few days later. But it did at least make him tell Derek about it beforehand which was actually real progress for them. Very quickly it became obvious that Scott's method wasn't working. Stiles was gaining back some of the fat and he was approaching a healthy weight but it was as if the teenager they had all known had shrivelled away and died. Within a few weeks of their latest night time debacle Derek decided to plan an intervention and with the pack behind him he began to work out what to say to his Alpha. How did you say to someone that what they were doing to help was killing their best friend?

And yes, earlier on that was a reference to the film The Truman Show which I an amazing movie and really freak worthy if you think about it too much. This took me so long to write out, I kept on redoing the ending and re writing it. My only excuse is school which isn't really that good cause I'm meant to be doing homework right now… But in slightly happier news I got discharged on Wednesday! I don't really know what that means apart from the fact that I am now meant to be mostly recovered (Maybe? I guess I kind of am?). But I am most definitely better than where I was when I went to the doctor three years ago. So yeah, it gets better you just have to hang on. (Yeah I know, cheesy).


	13. Chapter 13

Stiles sat in class, staring blankly at the board. Differentiation, how the hell did that work again? Next to him Malia was scribbling something. Scott was behind him, listening intently to the teacher. Stiles sighed and bent down, hoping that the proximity would allow symbiosis to occur, wait was it symbiosis? It was something like that… he thought it was anyway. He could hardly stand talking to one of the pack but if he hadn't gone back to school he would be facing expulsion. So there he was. Wishing he was asleep. Stiles sat up quickly as the teacher placed her hand on his back.

"Stiles, are you okay? Do you need a medical pass?" Stiles is about to shake his head when he considers, five blessed minutes at least where he knows there won't be any freaky wolves listening in. He nodded eagerly and the teacher, Miss An something or other. She smiled down at him as he gathered up his stuff and rolled out of the room.

In his wake he left two irate werewolves. Scott instantly stuck up his hand, asking to go to the toilet. The teacher pursed her lips.

"The lesson has only just started Mr McCall, if your bladder is that small then you should talk to your doctor" with that she continued walking around the class. Scott glanced to the door, ready to rush forwards before he heard Malia's voice.

"If you follow him now you'll get in trouble. You can still hear him and he won't like you barging in on him. Remember what Derek said"

"You're teaming up with Derek?!" Danny, next to Scott, glanced over at the two of them and they fell silent. Scott jiggled his leg, trying to figure out which option to take. He sighed and looked down at his work, the pack had a point.

Stiles stretched the moment he was in the open, his back ached from the chair. His chest had felt uncomfortably tight but in the open he could take deep breaths. He smiled before commencing his journey to the medical room. There he spouted some nonsense about feeling sick (he always felt sick now, there was so much food in his stomach) and that he just needed some time (and maybe a working pair of legs). The woman nodded and waved him through to the small room. He just sat there for a time, he didn't know how long, thinking. There was something niggling at the back of his head that something was terribly wrong and he was beginning to agree with it.

Scott had force-fed him for a long time and yet Stiles could still see his ribcage. The black spots that danced in front of his vision constantly had gone. The lightness in his head had cleared and he could finally see through it. He had been ill. But even as he came to this conclusion he knew that his brain didn't care. Yeah, he was ill but he always had been. What difference is there between an eating disorder and ADHD? Surely they were the same…

The bell jolted him from this line of thinking and after a few seconds he heard a knock rapping on the door. Scott entered, frowning.

"Are you okay?" Stiles nodded, waiting for Scott to leave. But of course, Scott didn't seem to get that message. Instead he crossed the room and knelt in front of Stiles. Any other time Stiles would have yelled at him for kneeling but at that moment he was just trying not to laugh at Scott's expression. Stiles could do nothing, couldn't even walk down the street alone, but Scott could do anything. And yet here he was, the True Alpha knelt at a cripple's side

"Stiles, tonight the pack are meeting at Derek's flat. We want you to be there" Stiles was surprised at this, all the pack meetings had been about him and he hadn't been invited to a single one.

"Why?"

"Because this isn't working. No matter what we do it isn't enough" Stiles nodded slowly, still not fully understanding. Scott sighed "We need to figure out how to help you" Stiles nodded, all humour vanishing as his mind started to spin. He hardly listened as Scott left the room, to busy planning.

If they allowed him more freedom then he could use that to his advantage, he could start getting better again. Stiles smiled as his plan began to form. After a few minutes the woman came back in and he was allowed to go back to class. When he got there he slipped in quietly (or he tried to at least) and took the seat beside Malia.

Throughout the lesson Malia kept on shooting glances his way, even less subtle than Scott normally was. Halfway through the lesson the teacher finally allowed group work and Malia began to talk.

"Look, Stiles I'm really sorry"

"About what?"

"I didn't know, okay? I thought you were just being selfish" Stiles was lost

"What are you talking about?"

"Your disorder"

"Oh" Stiles' interest in the conversation dropped, he glanced down at the blank page in front of him, trying to figure out what the hell the class was

"I thought you were just being selfish, I thought you just didn't want to be here anymore"

"I don't"

"Don't say that!" Stiles glanced at her in surprise, not expecting the outburst. Apparently she hadn't either because she dropped her gaze down to her notes immediately.

"Why not?"

"Because you matter Stiles to all of us" he snorted and she glared at him

"You do. Scott wouldn't have survived his first full moon without you. I would still be in some mad house. The pack wouldn't exist without you"

"And it wouldn't exist if Peter hadn't bitten Scott or if Kate hadn't killed the Hales. Just because I changed stuff doesn't mean it was the right thing" Malia turned to him fully, glaring

"You really think that what you've done for the pack is what they did to us? They only ever tried to hurt us. You were protecting us"

"But I'm nothing Malia. Look at me" he gestured to his legs, lying still in the chair "I could never fight like you lot or defend myself. I'm not good like Scott is or brave like Allison was. I was clever but that's not enough." He hissed the last few words before sitting back in his seat "You've got Lydia for that now"

"We want you"

"But I'm not worth it" Malia opened her mouth before pausing.

"You really believe you're worthless, don't you?" Stiles silence was all the answer Malia got and it was all the confirmation she needed.

That night the entire pack, minus Derek, met beneath Derek's flat. Then they all went up together talking loudly, trying to distract themselves from what they were there to talk about. The door opened and the hubbub died instantly. In the middle of the room Derek was kneeling over something. Scott rushed forward with Malia while Kira and Isaac took a step closer to Stiles and Lydia. Derek moved aside as Scott got closer and Stiles noticed for the first time that Derek's shirt was drenched in blood.

"I went out to get some milk and when I got back he was like this" Derek's voice trailed off and there was a glazed look in his eyes. Isaac stepped towards him, as if the bond of his Alpha had never been broken. Scott peered down at the body, soaked with blood curiously. Suddenly he stood up, his eyes wide.

"Who is it Scott?" Stiles broke the silence, taking a few steps out of the lift beside Kira. He turned back when he heard a voice behind him. Still stood in the lift, bathed in an amber glow Lydia looked ill as she spoke.

"It's Peter"


End file.
